


If Death Do Us Part, How Is Elysium? (I’m in Hell)

by SargeantWoof



Series: The Center Will Hold [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Twins, Angst, BAMF Annabeth Chase, BAMF Stiles, Everything Hurts, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Older Brother Tony, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polish Stiles Stilinski, Prophecy, Protective Avengers, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Protective Tony, Secrets, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-03-02 08:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13314576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SargeantWoof/pseuds/SargeantWoof
Summary: The war was supposed to have ended it all, instead, Annabeth, Stiles, and Tony now have to deal with intergalactic peace, literal hell, and werewolves. They believe they have each other, but as they pull themselves from the wreckage they begin to question exactly where they stand with each other and the world.HEAD'S UP: Spoilers for Iron Man through Thor 3, the second PJO series, Trials of Apollo, Teen Wolf. I figure most people have seen those but, I also don't want anyone to be surprised by it.





	1. Blankly Misguided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is ready for this all to be done and it's really only just beginning.

Loki was a smug prick, but it was valid, Tony admitted to himself, as he watched the God in his own tower. He felt a flash of white hot anger as he considered the fact that the God had invaded his personal space.

It was a dick move, but understandable, to say the least.

He circled the tower once before gently landing on the outside pad. "Sir." Jarvis greeted, as his suit disassembled.

"Mark VII, ready on my cue." Tony murmured, not bothering to look away from the God inside his tower. Jarvis didn't respond but Tony figured he had gotten the gist of the command. He strode in, heading straight for the bar.

Loki immediately began speaking. _"Please tell me you are going to appeal to my humanity"_.

Tony stifled a snort. "I think you and I both know that that isn't going to happen." He poured himself a drink, eyeing the God. "I'm actually gonna threaten you."

Loki looked vaguely honored. "Are you now?"

"Mmhmm," Tony said, fastening his honing bracelets to his wrists. "I'm a little behind on the threats, I'll give you that."

Loki arched an eyebrow, mirth shining in his eyes. "Just a tad, Stark?"

Tony nodded, taking a sip from his scotch. "So what's your play now, reindeer games?"

"I have an army."

Tony didn't both hiding his snort this time. "We have a hulk."

Loki nodded absent-mindedly. "That you do." He paused, his ice blue eyes suddenly staring directly into Tony's. "I imagine that's not all you have."

"No…" Tony said slowly, repressing a shudder. Loki's eyes were the same color of the Tesseract and his arc reactor, he realized suddenly. "That's not all we have." He cracked his fingers, smirking at Loki. "We have the good Captain, Hawkeye, the Black Widow, and last but definitely not least, your brother, who I assure you is still pissed at you."

Loki rolled his eyes. "The feelings of Midgaurdians are the least of my problems." He paused suddenly, cocking his head as if listening to another voice. "However…"

Tony paused in his act of taking another sip to raise both eyebrows. "However…?"

"However you are not just any Midguardian, are you Stark?" Loki smirked at the billionaire. "You're… more than that."

Tony frowned. "I suppose one could look at my elite status as more."

Loki chuckled humorlessly. "That wasn't quite what I meant."

Tony froze. He had read through pages of Norse mythology, searching for the potential answer to his question of whether or not Thor would be able to tell that he was not fully human. So far, he had showed no sign of recognition of the Greek influence on Tony. He forced himself to relax before responding to Loki. "I don't think that I know what you mean."

"Come, Stark," Loki chided. "Wouldn't you like to meet me on a more equal footing?"

Tony shook his head slowly. "I'd rather that you fuck off, honestly."

Loki narrowed his eyes, watching Tony closely as he came around the side of the bar. "How about no?"

Tony sighed, "Well I tried." He set his glass down on the bar before turning to face Loki fully. "How about this?" Loki arched an eyebrow and gestured for Tony to continue. "We'll fight you and we'll win."

 _"I have an army."_ Loki said again, smirking.

 _"You're missing the point!"_ Tony cried, _"There's no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damned well sure we'll avenge it!"_ He shot Loki a look. "How about that asshole?"

"Well," Loki drawled, coming closer and bringing up his scepter. _"How will your friends have time for me, when they're so busy fighting you?"_ He tapped the scepter against Tony's chest, frowning when it did nothing.

Tony grinned. "Oh, you thought I had a real heart?" Loki growled and tapped the scepter to his chest again. _"Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon,"_ he couldn't help quipping. _"One out of five…"_

Loki smiled at him, "Try this on for size," and threw Tony out the window.

"Jarvis!" Tony yelled as he smashed through the glass. "Engage Mark VII." He couldn't stop the panic that was slowly creeping through his brain as he got closer and closer to the pavement. "Jarvis!" He yelled again, sighing in relief as he felt the first pieces of the suit snap into place around him.

"Sorry Sir," Jarvis sounded in his ear. "Performance issues."

"Funny." Tony huffed at him, shooting back up to the top of the tower. "Let's do this."

"Indeed, Sir." Jarvis said, as the suit became level with the floor that Loki was on.

Loki arched an eyebrow and leveled the scepter at Tony. Tony shook his head, "I wouldn't try that if I were you." Loki's momentary hesitation let Tony have the opening he needed. He fired a shot from his gauntlet quickly smirking slightly at how frazzled Loki looked as he dove out of the way. He raised started gearing up for another shot but was distracted by a beam of blue light piercing the sky from the top of Stark tower. "What the fuck?" He said, flying up to the top. "Uh guys," he murmured, activating his communication unit, "We've got company."

He hadn't been quite sure that the aliens were real until the portal opened. He could get behind the other God's as being misplaced from a separate planet but he couldn't really wrap his head around aliens. It was hard to imagine other beings not looking human-like.

Then the portal really opened and swarms of blue things came flying out.

"Oh fuck me." He muttered into the communication unit. "Fucking fuck me."

"Stark…" Cap said warningly.

Tony rolled his eyes from inside the suit. What did the Captain think he was gonna say? 'Oh gosh darn it - the aliens invaded?' He stifled a snort, knowing that it would only serve to further irritate the good Captain.

He quickly fell into the routine of fighting, flying high above the other Avengers, listening with one ear to the various commands that Cap was calling. His main goal, he realized, was to keep and maintain a perimeter. Fighting an army was no good if they got out and spread further into the city.

As he flew around, he began to grow concerned. While the alien army was terrifying, it wasn't that hard to defeat. Where was the fight that Loki was alluding to? Where was the struggle? Something wasn't adding up. He went to tell the others but, before he could, Cap spoke. "Iron Man, get down here, we've got company."

Tony complied without answering, his mind spinning at the thought of company. Logically, the only person it could really be was Bruce, but nothing about the fight had been logical so far.

As he flew over to the others, the portal opened to allow a massive space being. "Fuck" He muttered to himself. He swung himself around, shooting to the front of the creature. "Hey asshole," he said, hovering in front of the thing. "Eat shit." He shot two repulsor blasts at its face, wincing when it did no visible damage and only enraged it. He sighed, before offering up a word of prayer to the Gods that his plan would work. He flew in towards where the others were gathered, catching the tale end of Cap confirming that Banner had arrived. "Guys," He announced, flying in low towards where all their signals where clustered. _"I'm bringing the party to you."_

He smirked to himself as he heard Romanov mutter under her breath about how it wasn't a party. As he flew over their heads, he bit back a gasp of relief at the sight of Banner. Even with Cap's verbal confirmation, it was far better to have a visual of him.

Breaking fast, he spun back towards the group, watching Banner transform with unabashed curiosity. The subsequent death of the monster-ship-thing was as terrifying as it was uplifting. He moved over to hover a foot off the air, as he surveyed the portal. The death of the giant had not gone unnoticed, and the sounds that came from the aliens was unnerving. _"Call it, Cap."_

Cap nodded, and began directing the others. Tony blocked out most of the orders, only answering when he heard his name. He knew where his place was - in the air, with those monsters. He waited anyways, letting Cap finish his speech before taking off again. "Jarvis," he said, hovering two blocks away from the portal. "Make a note, there was personal growth."

"Indeed, Sir." Jarvis answered dryly. "Anything else I should note?"

"Mmm no, I think that's all the big news from today," Tony grunted out as he engaged with the aliens. He paused for a moment in speaking, thinking about how he wanted to fight them before just going for it. "Nothing else seems all that interesting."

Jarvis remained silent, letting Tony focus on the attacks. He had fallen into a slight trance; distract, aim, shoot, repeat, when Fury suddenly was in his ear. "Stark. The World Council is sending a nuke to Manhattan."

"What?" Tony gasped out, stuttering in his flight pattern for a moment. "There are millions of people here."

"I know," Fury said. "I told them-" He cut himself off. "Just - can you take care of it?"

Overriding Fury's voice, Romanov suddenly cut in. _"I've got the scepter. I can close it - the portal."_.

Tony groaned, answering Fury before switching over to the team's comm's. "Don't."

"What, why?" Cap answered. "We need to shut this down while we can-"

"Cap, no time. There's a missile coming in for New York."

"What the hell?" Barton said, panting. "Who-" He stopped talking before groaning. "The World Security Council."

Romanov cursed under her breath. "How long do you need?"

Tony glanced at his screen, eyeing the numbers that Jarvis had pulled up for him. "Roughly a minute." He spoke privately to Jarvis. "Find me the flight path." Jarvis immediately brought up the approximate path and Tony headed towards it. He flipped back to the team's comm. "Close it after me."

Everyone spoke at once but it was Romanov who Tony focused on. "Romanov- Natasha," He amended. "Close it."

He shot over to the missile, shouldering it, as he vaguely heard Romanov murmur an agreement to shut the portal. "J?" He said weakly, contemplating the fact that he was probably going to die.

"Sir?" Jarvis answered, steady as he always was. "I can call Ms. Potts or call Stiles."

"Fuck," Tony grunted out weakly, wincing as his sudden ascent made the armor whine slightly. "Stiles, call him."

There was a click as Jarvis immediately connected with Stiles' Starkphone. The phone rang three times, each one getting fainter and fainter before Stiles finally picked up. "Hello?" He said groggily. "Tony?"

"Stiles," Tony gasped out, "Stiles I love you and Annabeth, okay? Fuck- tell Pepper and John that I- Stiles?"

There was silence on the other end, "Jarvis?" Tony asked softly, his eyes wide as he realized he was literally in space. There was no answer. He let go of the missile, sending it toward the giant alien ships. He gasped again, realizing he was fully alone in the universe, and that he was falling. He closed his eyes, accepting the end for what it was before sending up a final prayer to the Gods to project Annabeth and Stiles. It was over, he was done.

He jolted awake, staring blankly at the faces of his team gathered around him. The complete contrast of seeing more than nothing shocked him more than anything else. For a moment he wondered if he was in the Underworld but he knew that all of his teammates would be in Elysium whereas he was going straight to the Fields of Punishment. To cover up his shock of still being alive, he just started speaking rapidly. _"Oh please tell me nobody kissed me."_

Cap chuckled weakly, "No, Stark. It's over though, we won."

"Oh thank god." Tony said, letting himself relax on the pavement. "I vote we get some food. Anyone else up for that?"

Hulk roared in response. "Alright, we've got one taker. Cap? Barton? Thor?"

Cap looked conflicted but Barton overrode his potential protests. "Let's fucking do it."

Thor nodded. "I believe I too would like some sustenance."

Tony grinned weakly up at him. "I knew I liked you for a reason." He tried to get up but couldn't. "Pry me out?"

Cao sighed but brought his shield down obligingly, freeing Tony from the concrete.

"I have two things I need to do, and then we can get some food." Barton opened his mouth to protest but Tony held up his hand. "You all can come with me."

"Oh."

"We have to get Romanov, clothe Bruce, and I just need to get out of this suit."

Cap nodded. "Let's go."

They trooped into Stark tower, Bruce having shrunk down and passed out in Cap's arms. They shot up to the penthouse, where Romanov was waiting for them. Tony nodded at her, as he passed, ignoring the subsequent talk that began happening as soon as Barton saw her. He grabbed a pair of pants and a shit, coming back out and tossing them at Cap. "For Banner," He said. "I'll be out in ten minutes."

He changed quickly, once he was out of the suit. Reaching into his bedside table, he grabbed his phone, and called Stiles. The phone rang seven times and he didn't pick up. Frowning to himself, he left a voicemail. "Stiles - I'm okay. There's gonna be footage of me all over the news. Believe me, I'm completely okay. I'll call you within 72 hours, as soon as I can. Don't call me. There's gonna be feds all over the place. Don’t risk it. I love you. I love Annabeth. Hell, you can even tell John that I love him too. I'll call you soon." He hung up, absently playing with his phone.

A shout brought him out of his musings, and into the other room. "Well, well, well," He said, smirking at the downed God on floor. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise?"

Loki grimaced at them. "I assure you, the pleasure is all mine." His green eyes beseechingly sought out his brother. "Thor?"

"Enough, Loki." Thor boomed. "Your games are over."

Loki nodded quietly. Across the room, Romanov was on the phone with SHIELD, arranging them to pick up Loki in a minute. The rest of the group was quietly clustered around the bar, watching the two Gods interact with trepidation. Tony headed over to them, ignoring Thor's questioning of Loki. Barton was glaring at the floor, restlessly running his hands over the shaft of his arrows. Tony snorted, "So what's with the bow and arrow, Legolas?"

"Ha. Very funny Stark." Barton said, raising his eyes to Tony's. "We only just met. Don't think that you can know all my secrets just yet."

Tony pointed his fingers at Barton. "Not even a little backstory?"

Cap knocked his hand down. "Tony…" He said warningly, but Barton waved him off.

"It's fine, Cap." He rolled his eyes at Tony. "And no, Stark. You've gotta get to know me before you get any secrets."

"Fair enough." Tony said.

Romanov slid neatly into the group. "SHIELD's here. Let's go."

The group headed for the elevator, with Tony watching the mass of suited Agents closely as they invaded his personal space. He brought out his phone, plugging in security codes and shutting down access to all other parts of the building. The elevator beeped, opening up the doors. They walked through the lobby, heading for the street, as Tony took the lead. "C'mon guys. It's like not even a block away."

He quickly sped off, leaving the group a step behind him. Behind him, Thor clapped Banner on the back. "T'was a good fight, was it not?"

Banner nodded, dazed. "Uh sure."

Romanov and Barton were walking half a beat behind them, their heads lowered together. Tony couldn't hear what they were saying and he honestly didn't care. All he wanted to do was sit down, eat, and then sleep for a week.

He strode through the doors of the shawarma shop and plopped down at the first table that could seat all of them. Molly, his regular waitress popped up from behind the bar. "Mr. Stark?"

He wearily wave at her, "Hey there, Mols." The rest of the group trooped in behind him. Molly stared at them for a beat before turning back to Tony. He quirked a smile in her direction. "Is the kitchen open?"

The doors to the kitchen swung open as Jakob, the owner and cook stepped through. He took one look at them and clapped his hands together. "For you, Mister Stark. Anything." He headed back into the kitchen.

Molly shakily walked over to the group. "I can take your drink orders, Sirs and Ma'am?"

"Water's good for all of us, Molly. Thank you." Tony said, watching the rest of the team sit down around him. They sent him questioning looks and he just shrugged.

Banner eyed the room that they were in before raising an eyebrow. "Come here often?"

Tony snorted, as the ghost of a smile flickered across Barton's face. Romanov looked relieved at the ease of tension between the groups. Thor and Cap just looked confused. "Yeah, Jolly Green." Tony said easily, accepting the water Molly handed him with a small smile. "I come here often."

"He really does," Molly chimed in softly, keeping her eyes away from the measuring gaze of Romanov, "and he is always most excellent."

"That he is!" Jakob chimed in, burst through the doors with a massive platter of food. He grinned at the group. "Truly magnificent." Molly scurried back from the bar, distributing plates as Jakob continued to dish out the delicious food. When he got to Tony he paused. "Dziękuję ci za uratowanie miasta."

Tony nodded seriously, making direct eye contact with both Molly and Jakob. "Dla was dwoje, zawsze." Jakob chuckled, his eyes a little misty as he continued to hand out the food. Once he had finished, he returned to the kitchen, beckoning Molly to follow him.

"Come, Molly." He called as he left the room. "We'll check on you in a few moments."

Thor and Cap had already begun inhaling their food as it was being handed out. Barton and Romanov had begun slowly eating as soon as it was apparent that neither Cap nor Thor was poisoned but Banner was watching Tony. Tony paused from eating, cocking an eyebrow at Banner. "What's up?"

Banner titled his head. "That language you spoke… was it Swedish?"

"Polish." Romanov answered for Tony. "Although," she said, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know you spoke Polish."

Tony smiled at her, but the smile was more a baring of teeth. "Guess there's a lot you don't know." Romanov nodded slowly, conceding the issue.

Tony sighed, relaxing against the worn seats in the familiar restaurant. It was amazing how the day had turned out. He still couldn't really believe he was still alive. One thing was certain though, his web of lies was only going to get infinitely more complicated the more connected he got with this team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The polish is "thank you for saving the city" and then "for you two, always"
> 
> I'm backkkk! Sorry it took so long to kickstart this one. I'm going to be honest though, I waited until I had finished my first five chapters before posting.  
> My course and workload this semester is even more difficult than last so you have five weeks of guaranteed posts but then it might get a little wobbly. Have no fear, I have a plan, but lately it's been hard to push through to get to what I actually want to say. This is a work in progress and I always want to improve but bear with me as I just try to write cohesive and interesting things about characters that I dearly love.  
> If you're new to this series, welcome! I'm so glad that you've decided to join me on this journey. If you're returning to this series, it is so good to have you all back! I'm going to continue with the same schedule of postings for now, so once a week on Wednesday's.  
> As always, the three C's (criticism, comments, and complaints) are welcome.


	2. Nothing Is Working

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth faces her fears. Life goes on.

News of an alien attack was the last thing Annabeth expected when she returned to camp from picking up Jason, Piper, and Leo.

News of another God was… unexpected as well. Chiron had gathered the campers to the fire pit and spun a story of beings who considered themselves too good to consort with mortals and as such had left the earth. The other Gods made some sort of sense, as Annabeth had had some interactions with some descendants of other Gods. It was more so the fact that they just moved to another planet. And she was so distracted by all of her thoughts, that when she looked up again, Chiron had left and Travis and Connor had wheeled out a TV from their cabin and were playing news highlights.

The first thing the news played? Tony. Falling from the sky.

She stood abruptly, causing every single demigod to turn towards her.

"Annabeth?" Connor asked, gently. "You look a little…"

She shook her head once. "I have to go." With that, she turned on her heel and left. The camp erupted into murmurs behind her.

Piper leaned into Jason, "What do you think that was all about?" Jason shrugged, watching as Annabeth grew smaller in the distance before disappearing over the top of the fire pit's seats.

Leo snorted, his hands building a small replica of the Big House out of nuts and bolts before disassembling it. "Who knows? She looked way worse than when she got us though."

No one else moved for a minute, though the campers only got louder and louder as speculation grew.

"Maybe Percy was there and-"

"-what if she had an idea-"

"-as if that would be-"

"-I seriously don’t think-"

"Okay, shut the hell up." Clarisse called, standing up abruptly. "Seriously? Just shut up." She turned and began shoving people out of her way, "I'm going to find Annabeth. The rest of you dumbasses can just stay here and chat." As she made her way out of the firelight, the voices erupted even more loudly behind her. She rolled her eyes. The campers were so predictable.

Annabeth was sitting at the dock, staring at the water when Clarisse sat down next to her. She flinched for a moment before registering who it was. If it had been a year ago, she would have been angry, mad at the girl for intruding on her private moment. But that was ages ago. They had been through a war. They were older. Percy was missing. So instead of getting mad, she slumped over, letting herself rest on Clarisse for a moment before pulling herself up.

Clarisse waited until Annabeth was fully sitting up before she asked. "Do you want to tell me what that was about?"

Annabeth grimaced. "It's less of a want and…"

"And…?" Clarisse prompted.

"I don't want to voice reasons… it feels like I'm tempting fate."

Clarisse arched an eyebrow at her. "Seriously?" She held up her hand to stop Annabeth from protesting her words. "No like, I get it if it's personal or if it is just something you want to keep to yourself for whatever reason but, seriously? You're choosing 'tempting fate' as why you can't tell me something?" Annabeth nodded. Clarisse sighed. "Annabeth, I love you, but sometimes you're dumb as fuck."

"Hey!"

"No, for real." Clarisse snorted. "Annabeth, you being born was tempting fate." Annabeth stilled. "Like out of all the kids here, aside from Percy, even sometimes with Percy, I feel like you're the one that I've gotta watch out for." Clarisse glanced up from where she was watching the water, expecting a quip or laughter back. Instead, Annabeth's pale face was staring at her.

"I mean…" Clarisse said, maintaining eye contact with her. "Not just the prophecy?" The slightest incline of her head, one that she would have missed had she not been studying Annabeth so closely. "Well fuck."

Annabeth dropped her gaze, contemplating the potential to tell Clarisse about Tony. The last person she told had been Percy and it had gone as well as she had expected.

He had taken it well but then there had been questions upon questions and in the end, he had merely subsided with more questions. She had promised to bring him to meet Tony, and she had been planning on asking him if he wanted to go for the end of summer. But, she thought tearfully, instead, he had disappeared, and slowly, all of her hopes for them had slipped away too.

Clarisse sighed. "You take too much on yourself." Annabeth gave a half-hearted shrug, not even bothering to argue. Clarisse shifted, before sighing again. "You know you can always talk to me, right?"

Annabeth nodded slowly, before coming to a decision. "Let's go."

"Let's go?" Clarisse echoed, watching Annabeth spring to her feet. Annabeth jerked her head to the left where campers were beginning to gather for canoe races. "Ah."

As Annabeth waited for Clarisse to stand she flicked through the places that would be quiet enough for such an explosive reveal. She wasn't about to take her to the cove but none of the well known places would do either.

Clarisse tapped her on the shoulder. "We going or what?"

"Yeah," Annabeth said, rolling her eyes at the impatience of the other girl. "Let's go." They headed away from the canoe lake, heading toward the woods and Zeus's fist. When they made it to the pile of rocks, they both scrambled to the top, each picking a different side so that they could see anyone coming from any direction.

"So…" Clarisse prompted, after the moment of silence had lasted a beat too long. "What is it?"

Annabeth steeled herself, "So." She sucked in a sharp breath, frowning out over the darkened forest. "Tony Stark is my older brother."

Clarisse blinked. "I… think I know who that is?"

"He's a massive weapons dealer, or at least he was." Annabeth muttered. "My actual father is his Dad, same with Stiles' obviously." Clarisse snorted but otherwise seemed content to let Annabeth's words slip out into the cool air. "Don't tell anyone, if people know…"

"Sure." Clarisse agreed, easily. "Does Chiron know?"

Annabeth shook her head. "I don't think so. Stiles and I don't think he came to Camp Half-Blood."

Clarisse grunted. The two sat in silence for another long moment before Annabeth shifted. "You're taking this better than I thought you would."

Clarisse shrugged. "I don't know the 'real world' well enough for his name to have enough of an impact. He's just another sibling, like an abstract Stiles."

"That's one way to look at it."

Clarisse nodded to herself, absentmindedly bringing up her hands and cracking her knuckles. "It's probably a life-changing secret to know but…" She trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

"But?" Annabeth asked, her brows knitting together in confusion.

"I have to tell you something."

Annabeth froze. "You have to tell me something?" She repeated back to Clarisse.

"Yes." Clarisse leaned back on the rock between them and stared up at the night sky. "I was in love with Silena."

"What?" Annabeth whispered.

Clarisse laughed, a harsh, ugly sound that rolled over the top of the woods. "Yeah."

Annabeth nodded to herself, taking a moment to let all of the edges slot into place. "I'm sorry," She finally offered. "For your loss."

"Mmm?" Clarisse mumbled.

"She was a good person- in the end."

"Yeah," Clarisse whispered, tears prickling in her eyes. "She was, wasn't she?"

Annabeth didn't respond, instead letting the quiet of the night wash over her. It was a clear sky, with the Huntress out in full effect. Even with the absence of Mr. D, the plants were alive and well within the camp boundaries. If Percy hadn't gone missing, Annabeth would have ventured to say that the upcoming summer could be one of the best. But, that was not the case, and instead she was searching for the slightest mention of him. And, she reflected, aliens had briefly invaded Earth, so that was probably cause for concern.

She shivered, the cool wind waking her up from the slight doze that she had fallen into. She peered over at Clarisse, finding the girl's warm brown eyes easily, even in the near dark. "You're a good friend." She said.

Clarisse closed her eyes but smiled. Annabeth sighed, stretching her arms out. "I'm heading back, you coming?"

Clarisse shook her head slowly as she opened her eyes, but leaned over and squeezed Annabeth's hand, dropping it as quickly as she grabbed it. "Later kid."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She slid down Zeus's fist quickly, landing easily on her feet on the grassy ground. Clarisse leaned over and waved before settling back into her seat, staring at the stars. Annabeth's feet followed the well worn path, tracing the same steps that countless others before her had taken.

She quickly made it to her cabin, sticking to the shadows, and ducking behind bushes in order to avoid others who were also sneaking about. Another night, she thought to herself, I'll sneak around with the ones from the War and we'll reminisce. But she was far to exhausted tonight.

Not finding Percy had taken a lot out of her. She had been so hopeful, so eager to find him, that she had never even considered the potential that she wouldn't. It was impossible to even comprehend at times, that she existed without him. Somehow he had made himself a pillar of her life. She sighed as she slipped into the Athena cabin. She crept towards the back bunks, heading for her bed. Since she was the head of the cabin, she got her one personal room, something that she had become increasingly grateful for as her search for Percy had continued on.

She quickly changed into her pajama's and slid into bed. Sighing, she turned, facing the wall of the cabin. From experience, she knew that she would fall quickly asleep but in her last moments of wakefulness, she sent up a prayer to Poseidon and her Mother, asking for a sign.

Unfortunately, she getting a sign of Percy wasn't in her immediate future. Instead, she crept past half-dreams, slinking from one into another until the colors bleed together. When she finally had enough of a mindset to focus, she realized she was in a familiar room. Sitting up slowly, she watched in horrified silence as Scott McCall seemed to loose his mind. As she watched him lunge at Stiles, she realized she couldn't move from the bed. As Stiles whirled past her, dodging Scott's limbs, his eyes seemed to meet hers. She screamed, trying to help, trying to do something but as her voice hit the Californian air, the walls rushed together, changing scenes completely.

She blinked rapidly, her eyes darting around the room as she tried to understand where she was. She pushed herself out of the chair she was in, sighing with relief as she realized she could move, finally. She headed for the doorway, ignoring everything except for her need to get to Stiles. However, when she tried to cross the threshold, she found that once again she was bound by some strange force and couldn't move past the door. She sighed, turning back around and freezing. She wasn't alone in the room.

There was a man wrapped up in bandages, staring at her. "Er- hello." Annabeth said, softly. He blinked at her and said nothing back. She frowned, "I'm sorry, I don't…" He shifted his gaze to the ceiling. She shuffled closer, eyeing the paperwork at the foot of his bed. She glanced at him quickly before reaching out a hand towards the top page.

"Well, well, well." A voice sounded behind her.

Annabeth screamed, grabbing her knife from her waist as she whirled around. Facing her was a female nurse. She cursed, "Fuck, I'm so sorry. I just stumbled down the wrong hallway and I'll be-"

The nurse spoke over her. "You must be excited about tonight, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry?" Annabeth said.

The nurse strode over to the window. "Well, I'll leave it propped for you." She winked at the man on the bed. "It'll be our little secret." She walked over to the bed and sat on it. Annabeth moved closer, drawn into the scene unfolding before her. The nurse smoothed out the man's hair. "Oh, Peter. I just love our time together."

The man's hand shot out, preventing the nurse's arm from touching his actual face. Annabeth jolted, startled by the sudden movement. Peter's eyes glanced at hers before focusing back on the nurse's. He chuckled, a low sinister sound that sent shivers down Annabeth's spine. "The pleasure's all mine."

His legs shifted, the movement drawing Annabeth's gaze back down to the charts at the foot of the bed. She squinted just barely making out the name. "Peter Hale?" She whispered. "Oh my god- I thought you were dead." She brought her eyes up to meet his.

Peter chuckled again, before sliding his legs to the ground. He stood up, staring directly at Annabeth. "Still here." He crouched down, contorting suddenly.

Annabeth skittered backwards, "What the fuck?" Peter's entire body snapped forward, slowly shifting from the shape of a man into the unmistakable shape of a monster. "Stiles, what have you gotten into now?" Annabeth breathed out. The Peter-monster-thing lurched towards her, drawing a scream from her throat. "What the fu-"

Annabeth blinked awake.

Malcolm stood over her, frowning down. "You okay?"

"What?" Annabeth mumbled. "Yeah just- bad dreams."

Malcolm nodded slowly, "You can talk to me about it, you know?"

Annabeth nodded back at him. "I don't know what I was dreaming about, though." Malcolm looked skeptical. "No," She protested. "It's true!" And it in fact was.

In the light of the day, Annabeth had no real idea what her dream was about. All that was left was the lingering emotion of fear and the unshakeable notion that Stiles was in real danger.


	3. Marked By Moon, Walk With Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is... not happy.

Stiles still couldn't believe it. Werewolves? Really?

Okay, scratch that. He totally could believe it. It was just like, really? How was he, or at least his family, wrapped up in almost every single strand of supernatural. (He kinda was holding out that Harry Potter was real and JK Rowling was Rita Skeeter, escaped to the muggle world.)

Scott was bit by a werewolf. Stiles was sure of it. It was logical, at least in his world.

What wasn't so logical was aliens.

He supposed watching his older brother fight off aliens was a good excuse as to why he wasn't so focused on Scott's issues. However, as Scott wasn't privy to that information, he was a little peeved.

"Stiles!" Scott yelled, "What the fuck dude?" They were at Stiles' house and had woken up to the news of an alien attack. Even with that knowledge, Scott has been exceedingly focused on himself.

"Yeah Scott, I don't know." Stiles sighed, staring at the screen, watching the replay of the portal opening over and over again. "Aliens man."

Scott shook his head, "Not that dude." The couch shifted as Scott walked into it and then vaulted over the back. "This."

Stiles rolled his eyes and prepared to scoff, "Dude that's noth…" He trailed off, staring at Scott's hands. "Are those claws?" Sprouting out of the ends of Scotts fingers were thick claws which were curved and sharp. Scott nodded silently, staring at his hands bewildered. Stiles gently reached out and flipped Scott's left hand over, studying the way they came from his fingers. "Huh."

"I know dude." Scott said, frowning at his hands. "What do I do? What about my mom Stiles?"

Stiles shrugged helplessly. "I have no clue." Scott shot a panicked look at him and Stiles just shook his head. "Dude if I had an idea, I'd tell you."

They both sat there, staring at the sharp claws, before Stiles huffed. "Okay so what about meditation?"

Scott immediately scowled at him. "Stiles! This isn't, don't joke."

"I wasn't joking." Stiles said dryly, arching an eyebrow. "Like try to control your breathing and calm down." Scott nodded. Stiles couldn't resist a parting shot, "Obviously you panicking isn't doing jack shit." Scott shot him a wounded look and Stiles held up his hands. "Sorry dude."

Scott growled wordlessly, but closed his eyes, breathing in and out. Stiles switched his attention back to the news, watching as CNN once again replayed the shot of Tony flying through the wormhole. He breathed in sharply, rubbing his eyes before turning back to Scott. He had managed to get his claws to disappear but was staring at Stiles. Stiles arched his eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing" Scott said too quickly before wincing, "Just… you okay dude?"

"Me?" Stiles said, "I'm not the one who just went through something like lycanthropy man."

Scott nodded slowly, before catching sight of the time on CNN. "Fuck, my mom!" He began to gather up all his stuff, "I've got to pick her up from the hospital."

Stiles flashed him a thumbs up. "See you tomorrow?"

Scott nodded half heartedly, "Sure dude, just don't forget about lacrosse!" He called over his shoulder as he rushed out the door. "Later!"

"Later," Stiles echoed, frowning. He waited to hear Scotts' car start and for him to begin pulling out of the driveway before he moved. He headed into the kitchen, ignoring the mess on the counter that always accumulated whenever they spent more than an hour of time together. He fiddled with the nozzle, setting it up so that a rainbow was splayed across the kitchen. He flipped payment into it, intoning "Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering and show me Nico Di'Angelo, if he is alone."

The rainbow remain stagnant for a moment before suddenly shifting and showing Nico. "Stilinski?" He said surprised. "What the-"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Cut the shit Di'Angelo." The two stared at each other for a long moment before smirks broke out across their faces.

"It's been too long," Nico said, glancing around him before focusing on Stiles. "You should fix that."

"Oi," Stiles retorted. "What do you think I'm doing right now?"

"True," Nico said, inclining his head. "What's up?"

Stiles glanced outside, making sure his Dad's cruiser wasn't in the drive before asking, "What do you know about werewolves?"

Nico stared at him for a beat before sighing and rubbing his forehead. "Is this a joke?"

"No?" Stiles said. "Why would I…?"

Nico shrugged, "I don't pretend to understand half the things that you do."

Stiles glared at the younger boy through the mist, shaking his head when Nico stuck out his tongue at him. "Real mature, asshole."

Nico chuckled before focusing on Stiles' earlier question. "Werewolves are just talked about as a legend."

"But what if I told you they weren't?"

"I'd say you were insane." Nico frowned. "But then, I'd re-evaluate. You never lie, or at least not to me. You don't ask questions that have no answer out of pleasure but more so because you actually are concerned about something." Stiles nodded along with each thing Nico listed out. "So," Nico continued. "I'd say you're being serious about this."

Stiles tapped the side of his nose and pointed at Nico. "You're on the nose."

Nico rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to ask questions because I have to go in a minute, but I'll tell you this." He paused for a moment. "They aren't spoken about on Earth. Well," He amended. "They aren't spoken about in serious tones on Earth. In Hades, though, they are generally thought to be fine in a stable pack but vicious on their own." He shrugged again. "However, this is all speculation. I don't know if I've ever met a werewolf or even someone who knew one."

Stiles pressed his lips together. "Well, you have now."

"What?" Nico said, his entire face changing as the words registered. "Stiles, what did you just say?"

Stiles opened his mouth but was interrupted by the front door slamming. "I'm home!" John called, stomping out of his boots. "Stiles?"

"Call you tomorrow." Stiles hissed under his breath. "Do not tell Annabeth anything." He swiped his arm through the connection, completely stopping Nico from replying. "In the kitchen Dad!" He yelled down the hall. "Deciding on dinner!"

John chuckled, coming down the hall. He briefly stopped at his home office, shedding his badge and gun, before coming into the kitchen. "Anything but lamb," he pled, grabbing a glass of water. "Tara's been forcing her lamb on me for the past three days."

"Really Dad?" Stiles said, rolling his eyes. "Like I'm going to feed you red meat."

John grimaced. "Right."

Stiles opened his mouth to respond but his phone rang in the living room, cutting him off. His face went white and he scrambled into the other room, gently lifting the phone to his ear. "Tony?"

"Hey kiddo," Tony's weary voice answered, "Sorry I haven't called." Stiles burst into tears, sinking into the couch and sending John flying into the room.

"Hey, hey, hey - shhhh, shh, he's okay Stiles. He's okay." John whispered to him, rubbing his back. Stiles leaned back into him, his hiccupping breaths easing as Tony kept up a steady stream of babble in him ear. He slowly calmed down, his sudden rush of emotions leaving him exhausted as if he had been working out all day.

"Tony?" Stiles sniffled. "What happened?"

Tony chuckled, "Aliens invaded, kid. There isn't much more to it than that." He shifted on the other end of the line. "I can't talk long, there are feds everywhere. I just snuck away and said I was going to talk to Pep. Barton definitely thought that I was going for something… not so innocent."

"Ew." Stiles said, grimacing. "That's nasty."

"Mhmm."

"Tony?" Stiles voiced dropped into a whisper. "Is that really Captain America?"

Tony breathed out through his teeth. "You really don't pull punches do you Stiles?" Stiles shrugged, biting his lip between his teeth.

"Yeah." Tony finally said. "That's Captain America."

Stiles winced, pulling away from John. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about me." Tony said.

"Sure…" Stiles agreed, frowning. "I want an alert set up for attacks."

"What, no!" John and Tony said in sync.

Stiles waved away their protests. "Listen. I don't care about the details of the attack," John arched an eyebrow at him and Stiles amended his statement. "Well, not really." He sat up, fixing John with a look. "I want an alert for every time that you go out, and every time you come back."

John nodded slowly. "That sounds reasonable." Tony spluttered in Stiles' ear but he wasn't having it.

"I'm serious, Tony. I want to know when you're back."

Tony sighed in acquiescence. "I suppose… that's okay."

Stiles closed his eyes in relief. "Thank you."

"Have you heard from Annabeth?" Tony asked quietly.

This time, Stiles sighed. "Yeah… she's not doing so hot."

"Oh."

"Not because of you," Stiles hurried to say. "Percy's disappearance has just… devastated her."

"Right." Tony paused. "They were really serious, weren't they."

"She was planning on bringing him here and then to meet you in New York."

"Really?" Tony whispered. "I had no idea."

"Yeah," Stiles said softly. "I think the only reason she was bringing him here first was because if she was going to see you, I wanted to come."

As Tony said nothing for a long moment, Stiles also just let the quiet wash over him. Very rarely was it quiet between the two. Normally they both had so much to say that the potential to just exist was swept away by the storm of words. Eventually Tony heaved another sigh. "I should go."

"Okay," Stiles murmured back.

"I'll call you?" Tony offered.

"Sure."

"Right." Tony said, letting another pause linger. "Alright. Love you."

"Love you too." The phone went silent in Stiles' hands. He leaned back, pushing into John's comforting weight for a moment before pushing off from the couch. He turned, raising his eye brows at John. John gazed steadily back at him. "You okay Dad?"

John nodded slowly, breathing out through his teeth. His face looked even more weathered than usual, Stiles noted with concern. "It's just…" He paused in his sentence, gesturing for Stiles to sit down across from him. Stiles slowly sat down, planting his feet evenly on the ground in preparation to spring up in case the occasion called for it. John waited until he was sitting before speaking again. "I just want you to know that you'll always have a place here, okay?" Stiles nodded. John continued, measuring each word carefully. "I know that things are… complicated."

"Dad-"

"No, Stiles." John sighed. "I know that there are things you aren't telling me."

Stiles fidgeted under John's gaze, completely aware of the frown that was on John's face. "I can't…"

John nodded as if the fragmented sentence made sentence to him. "Okay."

"It's just…" Stiles exhaled. "Aliens, Dad."

"Sure thing." John said, reaching over and scrubbing his hand over Stiles' shorn head. "Dinner?" Stiles flashed a smile and got off the couch, humming absently to himself. As soon as Stiles was completely absorbed in the kitchen, pots and pans clattering about, John eased himself back into the couch. He rubbed at his temples, absentmindedly flipping on the television. He knew Stiles wasn't telling him something. For once, he decided not to push, and let Stiles come to him.

Meanwhile, Stiles was in the kitchen, moving through the motions of dinner while really debating about telling John the truth. Would it be helpful to have an actual adult on their side? He snorted quietly at the implications that Derek Hale wasn't a real adult. Derek was a mess but it was a valid mess.

From what he could tell, Derek had been a victim of the situation. He had stolen some case files from his Dad's office while bringing him lunch this past week. The memory of that brought him back to his original thoughts. Would it help to tell his Dad?

The pros would be that he would have an officer of the law on his side, there would be a person he could turn to, and it would be a burden off his shoulders. However, with all that being said, the cons were the real source of the struggle. What if he got hurt? What if he banned Stiles from Scott? What if he died?

Stiles stiffened at that last thought. No. The potential for that outcome was completely unacceptable. He frowned again, absently putting the chicken for dinner in a pan. He couldn't risk it. John couldn't be told. And, as he worried his lip with his teeth, he realized Tony couldn't be told either.

The two of them would work together to figure it out, which was fine. But he couldn't ask Tony to keep something this massive from John. It just wouldn't be right.

Another issue was if he should message Annabeth.

He flipped the chicken, listening to the meat sizzle on the stove as he debated. It wasn't fair to keep this from her, he eventually acknowledged. But, she also had so much to deal with. It wasn't fair to push this on her. He nodded once to himself. He'd wait a week and if this got crazier he'd send her a message. He sighed, cracking his back before calling to John. "Dinner!"

As John moved into the kitchen, a flash of something caught his eyes in the tree outside his room. He rolled his eyes, brushing by John with a muttered, "Be right there." He headed up the stairs, pausing for a moment outside his door to brace himself.

He opened the door, swinging his gaze around to meet Derek Hale's eyes. "What the hell do you want, Sourwolf?"

Derek opened his mouth, glaring, before abruptly dropping to the floor. "There's a problem." He wheezed out.

Stiles had frozen, the shriek of terror just barely contained as Derek fell to the floor. "What problem?" Derek groaned in answer. Stiles dropped to the ground next to him. "Derek?"

Derek breathed in once before whispering on an exhale. "The hunters are back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I know this is a day late. I had a huge speech to present in one of my classes (I got to talk to the Swiss Embassy though!) and it was for a speechwriter who wrote for a bunch of former President's, so it was stressful. Thank you for your patience.


	4. The Sky Is A Neighborhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gathering of the group.

"Sir, there appears to be a visitor for you in the lobby." Jarvis announced one afternoon.

"What?" Tony asked, squinting at the holographic display in front of him. The prototype for the new Stark phone was just slightly off and he couldn't figure out what it was. Of course, him being up for 36 straight hours might've had something to do with it but he couldn't be 100% sure.

Jarvis sighed, as much as he was able to. "There's a visitor in the lobby for you, sir." Tony nodded absently. "I've taken the liberty of sending him up to you."

"Who?"

"Doctor Banner, sir." The elevators whooshed open as Jarvis finished speaking.

Tony spun, greeting the man with a huge grin. "Bruce! The man I wanted to see!"

He looked startled, adjusting his glasses as he gave Tony a faint smile back. "Mr. Stark."

Tony scowled, "Oh no, Brucie Bear, it's informal here all the way." Bruce watched, eyes wide as Tony slide over to him and ushered him further into the lab. "We've got work to do."

"We?" Bruce asked, staring at the glowing holographics.

"Of course!" Tony said, pushing him into a chair. "I know, this isn't your normal jam, but don't worry. I've got the bots setting up a new lab for you on this floor."

"A new lab?"

"And," Tony continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "I've got your floor all set up too. So don't worry about the commute." He grimaced, "I… don't think I've ever said the word commute before. It's gross." He titled his head up to look at the ceiling. "J, strike that from the dictionary."

"Certainly, sir," Jarvis replied drolly. "Anything else you may want to do?"

"Uh…" Tony glanced around the lab, searching for something else. He eyes landed on Bruce's stunned face. "Oh." He paused for a moment before shrugging. "Bruce, Jarvis, Jarvis, Bruce."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Banner." Jarvis said smoothly.

Bruce nodded back. "You as well?" He shot a slightly panicked look at Tony. "Did you build an AI and tell no one?" Tony nodded gleefully. "Does Shield know?"

Tony chuckled darkly, "Fuck Shield."

Bruce blinked. "Okay then."

Tony grinned at Bruce again, before dragging him over to the table. "So listen, I've got…" As the words Tony was saying got more and more complicated, Bruce began to slowly relax into his veneer of a scientist.

Jarvis noted with satisfaction, that as the hours went on Doctor Banner seemed to become less and less afraid of Sir, and far more open to moving into the tower. When he noticed the passing of the time, Doctor Banner had become amazed, and Sir began to shut down the lab in order to introduce him more to the amenities of the tower. Jarvis sent a text to Miss Potts, notifying her that Doctor Banner appeared to be in the tower to stay and that Sir was already engaging in a healthier pattern of behavior. She merely sent back a rolling eyes emoji but Jarvis knew enough to understand the fond undertones. It was, he put down in the books, a good day.

 

 

A week had gone by since Bruce had moved in and Tony was only growing more and more thrilled by every second he spent engaging with that beautiful brain of his. The man was a genius! His grasp of biology coupled with his experiments in Gamma Radiation had made him an excellent lab partner. Bruce had just headed of to bed, leaving with a soft goodnight tossed over his shoulder, when Jarvis alerted him to movement in his vents.

"J? Show me." Tony commanded. Jarvis followed his instructions immediately, bringing forth the camera's from the vents to hover in front of Tony. Tony stifled his first reaction, which was to laugh uncontrollably and get a drink, "Huh," he said instead.

"Indeed, Sir." Jarvis let the images stay in front of Tony for another moment, before letting them dissipate. "Would you like me to let him know that he is welcome in the Tower, Sir?"

Tony thought for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't want him knowing we know he's in here just yet."

"Sir-"

"And, I don't want him knowing we've got eyes everywhere."

"Certainly, Sir."

"Anything else, J?" Tony asked, stretching out. "No? Okay, then open up his suite." Jarvis murmured his agreement while Tony thought. "When he gets over his bed, let the clasp fail and then alert me. I'll go in, introduce myself, you, etc. Do not let him leave until I've spoken with him."

"Of course, Sir."

For a half an hour, Tony worked in quiet, steadily moving through his to do list. At quarter of three, Jarvis let him know that one Mr. Clinton Barton was secure in the floor that was to become his suite. Tony clapped his hands together, "Excellent." He strode through the building, internally cackling. By the time he got to the suite, he had gotten his façade under control.

He marched in without knocking, a cocky look on his face. "So, Birdbrain."

Barton scowled from where he was standing on the bed. "Stark."

Tony wagged his finger. "You don't call a man by his last name after you've broken into his house." He arched an eyebrow, "And with that tone? Psh, you're ridiculous."

"Oh I'm ridiculous?" Barton scoffed. "Right, cause you locking me into this room isn't ridiculous."

Tony shrugged. "Well this suit is yours. Romanov's is across the way." He vaguely gestured over his shoulder towards the other side of the toward. Barton's scowl dipped on his face, a small tension loosening in his shoulders.

"You're not locking me in here?"

"Like I could." Tony said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Anyways Hawkass, you and the redhead get this floor. Bruce is a floor above you."

Barton shook his head, "I'm still confuse-"

"Right." Tony cut him off. "Meet Jarvis."

"Jarvis?"

"Hello, Agent Barton. I am Jarvis." Jarvis chimed in. Barton didn't quite jump off the bed but he did slide to the floor rather quickly, Tony noted. "I am Sir's AI, functional in all aspects of this tower." Tony hid his smirk at the deliberate misconstruction that Jarvis was putting out.

"Hello." Barton said, staring at Tony. "Stark, does Fury know?" He shook his head once before sighing and sitting down on the bed. "Does Nat know?" Tony let his smirk break free and just shrugged at the archer. "Great," Barton moaned. "Just great."

Tony clapped his hands. "Awesome!" Barton groaned again. "Anyways, there's a kitchen on every floor, the labs are five floors up, the gyms; four, the massive kitchen and living space; three, and the other two are residential. Obviously, I live at the Penthouse."

"Right." Barton said, rolling his eyes. "Nothing but the best for you."

Tony shot finger guns at him and grinned. "You know it." Deciding that he had caused Barton enough issues for the evening, Tony turned and began to leave, "Later Birdbrain."

"Fuck you too, Stark," Barton shot over his shoulder as he began to investigate the rest of his rooms.

Tony waited until he had left the rooms and was in the elevator before speaking. "Open the vents, J. Let him have the option to leave."

"Indeed, Sir." Jarvis said, bring the elevator up to the Penthouse suite.

Tony rolled his eyes, "I'm onto your tricks." Jarvis didn't deign to give him a response. Tony sighed as he shuffled through the motions of going to sleep before settling into his bed. As was customary, he pulled his tablet out and sent a text to Stiles, who responded in under a minute. The two talked until Tony was literally too tired to keep his eyes open and he slipped into sleep.

The next morning as he headed down to the lab, he stopped into the kitchen to grab a coffee. He stepped into the well lit breakfast nook, biting back a grin at the obvious signs of a nest being made on top of the fridge by the vent. He slid his cup under the well worn carafe, closing his eyes as the smell of coffee reached his nose. The mug warmed his hands as he headed for the elevators. As the doors slid close, Jarvis softly announced that Agent Barton had stayed the night and appeared to be making arrangements to move more items into the tower later in the afternoon.

 

 

The next day, Romanov entered the kitchen as Tony made himself his fourth cup of coffee. He slid a look in her direction but refrained from voicing any actual questions, merely quirking a smile in her direction. She didn't smile back, but her mouth, which had been in a tense line, softened slightly.

The coffee burbled, filling the air with soothing sounds. Tony sighed, reaching out and snagging his tablet which was on the island in the kitchen. He sat down, sketching out new retouches of equipment and the vague beginning of an app's code, while he waited for his mug to refill.

Romanov watched him for a moment, waiting until he was fully sitting before going into the fridge and grabbing the items to make french toast. The two settled into a content atmosphere, each completely absorbed into their own activities. Tony only looked up when a plate was slid across the counter to him. Romanov didn't say anything as she set her own plate down in the seat across from him. She grabbed the syrup's from the fridge, plunking down Tony's favorite brand in front of him, while she got herself a different one. Tony watched her, waiting until she had taken her first bite before eating.

He hid his surprise at how good the food was, instead just nodding slightly in her direction. He didn't bother with anything else, knowing she would pick up the acknowledgement for what it was. They ate in silence, with Tony still fiddling with the designs on his tablet.

The peace was broken by Bruce entering the kitchen. He paused briefly in the doorway before continuing as though nothing was unusual. He grabbed his tea from the shelf, before turning to Romanov. "Would you like any tea?"

Romanov shook her head. "I have to head out to headquarters with Clint today." She slid off the stool. "Thank you though."

Bruce nodded at her and turned back to the stove. Tony lifted his head up, "Next to Barton."

Romanov arched her eyebrow but said nothing, putting her plate in the sink and heading for the elevators. As soon as she was gone, Bruce whipped back around. "When the hell did she get here?"

Tony shrugged unconcerned. "Last night probably."

"Why last night?" Bruce said, frowning at Tony.

"Barton came in last night. I figure they shadow each other so I'm assuming that as soon as Barton made himself a space here, she just appeared."

"huh." Bruce tilted his head in consideration. Tony let him have a few moments before clapping his hands together.

"C'mon, let's go to the lab."

 

 

A whole month and a half had gone by when Captain America finally showed up.

"Sir, Captain Rogers is in the lobby." Jarvis announced one afternoon. "Shall I let him up?"

Tony stood, stretching out his back. "Sure thing, J. Let him out here."

"Of course, Sir." Jarvis answered.

Bruce looked up, cocking an eyebrow at Tony. "You need me to do anything?"

"Nah," Tony waved him off. "Don't worry, I've got this."

The doors slid open, letting Captain Rogers into the lab. Tony waved him forward. "C'mon in, Cap."

Cap slowly stepped out of the elevator, warily looking around him, as if expecting massive explosions to begin immediately. Tony chuckled, causing Cap's head to snap around. "You're good, Cap."

"Well, all I've heard for weeks is that you're the king of explosions." Cap's dry voice answered.

"Really?" Tony said, excited. "Where were you?"

"Classified." Cap said, absentmindedly picking up a wrench and examining it closely before setting it down. "Why did you want to see me?"

Tony coughed. "Wait, what?"

Cap looked up, frowning. "Fury told me that you had been sending him emails for three weeks about me coming here."

"Well, yes, kind of?" Tony said, cracking his fingers. "It's hard to explain." He moved past Cap, into the elevator. "Coming?"

Cap nodded, eyeing Tony as he fidgeted anxiously. "You okay Stark?"

"Hmm?" Tony responded. "Oh yes, I'm fine."

"Right." Cap said. "Where are we going?"

Tony ignored him. "Jarvis, take us down."

"Whose Jarv-"

"Certainly, Sir." Jarvis responded, speaking right over Captain Rogers.

Cap didn't quite jump or flinch but his manner suddenly became colder. "Stark, who…?"

"Oh," Tony sighed. "I knew I had forgotten something." He waved a hand. "Cap, this is Jarvis. Jarvis is an AI."

"An AI?"

"Mmhmm." Tony said, gazing at the numbers on the wall as they changed. The elevator beeped, easing to a stop. "Slower than usual, J." Tony said, patting the wall of the elevator as he exited. "Keep that up and I'm gonna start making some changes around here."

Cap hurried after Tony, stopping short to avoid bumping into him when he spun around. "So." Tony gestured. "This is it."

Cap looked around, before nodding at him. "It's nice."

Tony brightened, "Oh you like it? Good."

Cap smiled at him. "Yeah, it's really nice." They stood there grinning at each for moment before Cap's brows furrowed. "I do have a question though…"

"Sure, sure." Tony nodded.

"Is there a place I could set my things down?"

"Set your things down?" Tony echoed, his smile slowly slipping off his face.

"Yeah." Cap said, glancing around again. "Like a guest room or something?"

Tony sighed. "Cap. This floor is your suite. Well," he amended. "Half of it is. The other half is Thor's."

Cap swallowed. "What?"

"Yeah." Tony shook his head. "C'mon. Drop your stuff here, I'll show you the ropes."

 

 

Two weeks later, Tony was wandering down the hallway towards the living room when he realized that he was slowly becoming accustomed to having others in his space. He stutter to a stop, eyes fixed on nowhere as he contemplated the new development. The smooth click of a panel opening behind him startled him out of his daze. Clint was standing there, a questioning look in his eyes. "You good?" He asked, coming up to Tony. Tony nodded slowly. Clint nodded back, clapping him on the shoulder as he squeezed by. "C'mon, Tash is making pancakes and Bruce said he might deign to make his chai tea."

Tony quirked a smile. "Wouldn't want to miss that."

"Course not." Clint grinned over his shoulder. The two walked into the kitchen, with Tony stopping to survey the chaos that was spread out before him. Natasha was at the stove, flipping a pancake, while Bruce leaned against the counter and was gesturing wildly. Clint had made his way over to Rogers, who was messily sketching out the sunlight streaming in from a glass window. Tony meandered further in, nodding at both Bruce and Natasha before Clint's voice caught his attention.

"-it's not the same though."

Rogers nodded. "I know what you mean."

Tony snagged his mug of coffee from where it was sitting, waiting for him on the counter as he slid onto the counter top. "What's not the same birdbrain?"

Clint looked up from where he was watching Cap's pencil against the paper. "Hmm? Oh, I was just saying that the city isn't the same as like upstate New York."

"Not," Cap cut in, "That we aren't grateful for the apartments."

"Uh huh." Tony said, setting his mug down beside him and taking a plate from Natasha with a quick smile. "Well, I suppose we could go upstate."

"Seriously?" Clint said, blinking. "But what if the world needs us?"

Bruce snorted into his tea, merely arching an eyebrow at the glare that Clint shot at him. Natasha answered the question for Clint. "We have a quinjet."

Clint nodded to himself, shoving a bite of pancake in his mouth. "Right, right."

"When would we go though?" Bruce asked, declining the plate of pancakes Natasha offered him.

Tony shrugged, "Tomorrow? This weekend?"

"Weekend works for me." Cap said, glancing up. "But where would we stay?"

"Oooo," Clint said, throwing pieces of pancake off his fork as he flailed. "Let's stay at a Four Season. Wait no- a Hilton!"

Tony shook his head. "We can just stay at the compound."

Bruce arched an eyebrow in his direction as Clint froze, letting Natasha steal the rest of is pancake off his plate. "Tash!"

She chuckled, "It tastes better stolen."

Cap set down his drawing utensil for the first time all morning. "Wait, you have a compound in upstate New York?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded. "Though mansion is probably a better word for it."

"How come we didn't know about this?" Clint asked, trying to steal his pancake back to no avail.

"I knew." Natasha offered calmly.

Bruce nodded. "So did I."

Clint threw his arms up and conceded defeat. "Fine, we can go to your mansion."

"Are you sure?" Cap asked. "If it's not ready or something we can find another place."

Tony waved his hand. "Oh no, it's totally fine." He said airily. "It should be ready."

"Why?" Bruce asked, draining the last of his tea and setting his mug in the sink.

"It's where I grew up." Tony said shortly, hopping off the counter and putting his plate next to the sink. "Now, if you excuse me, I have upgrades to do." He left the kitchen, refilling his mug on his way out. He made it all the way to the elevator before he relaxed. "J, anything important happen while I was out of the lab?"

"Stiles left a message for you, Sir." Jarvis relayed bringing the elevator up to the lab and opening the doors. "And Miss Potts added three more things to your moderate to-do list and one more thing to your urgent list."

"Great," Tony groaned, stepping out into the lab. "Play me Stiles' message." He collapsed in his chair as Stiles' cheerful voice filled the air.

"Tony! You'll never guess what happened! Scott tried out for lacrosse and made co-captain, ohmigod, Jackson was so mad. It was hilarious, ugh you would've loved it. Schools good, and everything else is pretty great too." His voice paused for a moment and the sudden change in tone caused Tony to sit up in his chair and take even more notice. "Shit's kind of hitting the fan and-" Stiles suddenly screamed. "HOLY SHIT." Tony shot up, ready to fly to California immediately. "Oh my god, that scared me." Stiles rambled, panting. "It was just a- just a spider. I've got to go, call you soon. Love you." The sounds changed as he brought his phone away from his ear to end the call. But, before it ended the phone caught, "Jesus, Derek, you scared the sh-" and then it cut off.

Tony stood in his lab, for a long moment. "Up the info on Beacon Hill and grab any info on from SHIELD, okay Jarvis? Something is happening there, and we're going to find out what."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title is a new Foo Fighters song. It's excellent, I recommend everyone check them out. I typically scream/sing all their songs and find it to be a great release.
> 
> Also, if you want to know the kind of music I listen to/write to, it varies every time I write. Let me know in the comments if you want playlist names, and I'll put the names in the notes at bottom. (They're all on Spotify & I have over 70).
> 
> Happy Valentines Day y'all!


	5. Phone Calls of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth is over it, the camp is nervous, and Clarisse has had enough with the hysteria.

The entire camp was at dinner, when the news came. It had been a rowdy afternoon, with everyone gearing up for capture the flag that night. When the phone rang in the Big House, it was so unexpected that the dinner pavilion fell silent. Everyone looked to the others, searching to see if someone was missing or playing a prank.

The phone in the Big House didn't ring. It was a facet of life at the camp. Everyone used IM's, especially the Gods. Chiron stood from his table, glancing at where Mr. D. was supposed to be. He said nothing as he cantered away, bringing even more unease to the suddenly somber attitude.

Annabeth stood up, commanding the attention of the rest of the camp. "Travis, Connor, is this you? Lou Ellen?" They all shook their heads.

Jason raised his hand, "What's happening?"

"The phone in the Big House never rings," Clarisse said, glaring at him. "And there's a legend that when it does, it means that someone has died."

The rest of the camp erupted into whispers. Annabeth tried to calm them. "I'm sure it's nothing-"

"What if it's Percy?" Someone said loudly from the back. The entire camp froze, turning as one to stare at Annabeth.

She swallowed hard, "I'm sure its nothing." As she spoke, Chiron galloped up to the Pavilion. She turned to him, "Who was it?"

He patted her on the back but wouldn't look her in the eyes. "I'm so sorry my dear, but it's for you."

The camp was dead silent, as Annabeth turned white. She nodded once and turned sharply to go. "I'll be back," She said softly, barely loud enough for her siblings to hear.

As she moved to the phone, the camp began yelling behind her. She ignored their raised voices and moved up onto the porch, taking brief comfort in the normal creaks of house before entering into Chiron's study. She picked up the phone studying it's worn exterior with resignation before bringing it up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Annabeth?"

"Yes," Annabeth answered, "Who's this?"

"Oh! This is Sally," The woman said, before erupting into tears.

Annabeth panicked for a moment before trying to calm her down, "What happened? Do you need me to come into the city?"

"I don't-" Sally began. "I don't think that's necessary."

"Okay," Annabeth said soothingly, trying to hid her increasing fear. "Mrs. Jackson- Sally-" she amended, "what happened?"

"I got, I got a call." Sally said sniffing, "I missed it because I was in the shower but, it was, it was Percy."

Annabeth froze. "What."

"I know," Sally whispered. "He's, he's remembering everything. And, he said he's on a quest." She sniffled. "He promised to make it back to me."

"He's never broken a promise," Annabeth mumbled, her mind whirling with the information. Sally's weak chuckle broke through her thoughts.

"He really hasn't," Sally sighed.

Annabeth clenched the phone tighter in her hand. "Sally are you sure you don't want me to come to the city?"

"Oh, no," Sally said, clearing her throat. "I'm sorry I called you in such a tizzy. I just… I haven't even told Paul yet." She confided in Annabeth, "He would want you to know."

Annabeth felt honored to have been the first person who was told. "I'll let the rest of the camp know."

"Oh thank you dear," Sally said. "Sometimes I don't know what I would do without you." The two paused for a moment before Annabeth drew up enough courage to ask Sally.

"He didn't mention…" She faltered in her question, trailing off but Sally had got it.

"You, sweetheart?" Sally finished. "No, although it was just a voicemail and from the way it was said, it was a very quick one." She laughed quietly, "It would be just like Percy to sneak off to do something like that."

Annabeth nodded to herself, fighting all of her emotions. "Thank you Sally."

"Of course," Sally assured Annabeth. "I'll let you go now but I want to see you one more time before you go off and save my son, okay?"

"Sally…"

"I won't take no for an answer." Sally said briskly. "I love you very much Annabeth. You've been a rock in this whole mess and I couldn't have worked through all of this without you."

"I love you too," Annabeth said, tears running down her face softly.

Sally sniffed on the other end of the line, "We're a right pair, aren't we?" Annabeth gave a watery chuckle. "I'll let you go now," Sally said. "Let me know when you're coming to see me, okay?"

"Okay," Annabeth confirmed, wiping away her tears. "See you soon." As the phone clicked on the other side, the sudden lack of a presence in the Big House was very noticeable. Annabeth took a moment to center herself, preparing for the camps reaction. She set the phone down gently, rubbing her fingers over it's smooth console as she thought. She breathed in once, before turning and striding from the office.

As she left the Big House, the sounds of all the campers that had been muffled, came into her hearing. She made to head up the path to the dining pavilion but a cough by the far end of the porch made her turn. Clarisse stood there, wreathed in shadows. She said nothing, merely titled her head. Annabeth allowed a small smile to cross her face, watching as Clarisse's entire body relaxed. As Annabeth stepped off the porch, Clarisse fell into step behind her.

They headed up the path, with Annabeth taking the time to reign in her emotions and allow her face to become a blank mask. She didn't want everyone to know all at once. It was selfish of her but she didn't want to jeopardize her spot in the quest to get Percy. She figured she could call a meeting with cabin leaders and then have them spread the news to the rest of the camp. She didn't want to be overwhelmed with questions.

As Annabeth strode into the pavilion, a wave of silence spread through the crowd. People halted mid-yell to turn and stare at her. She strode through them, making eye contact with a select few. By the time she had reached the center of the pavilion, no one was speaking. She closed her eyes, pausing for a brief moment, before going over to the Athena table. Malcolm attempted to speak but kept quiet at her look. She jumped up to the top of the table, ignoring the gasps from a few campers.

Chiron came forward. "Annabeth?"

"Cabin leaders meeting. Now." She said, turning to face the all the cabins. "War Table. 5 minutes." She made to get off before remembering, "We're gonna definitely need a ship." At the very unsubtle reference to the prophecy, the cabins descended into madness. She sighed, hopping down off the table. Turning to leave, Malcolm caught her hand.

"Annabeth…"

She pulled her hand from his grasp but turned to face him. "It's good news."

At her words, he slumped down. "Thank the Gods."

Annabeth smiled at him, "You can tell others, I just need to work out everything with the cabin leaders first."

Malcolm nodded, before whistling to capture the attention of the rest of the table and a couple of others. Annabeth slid away, his words of "it's good news" ringing in her ears. As word spread through the area, people began congregating by the Athena table, letting those needed for the meeting slip away.

As she pulled away from the brightly lit area, the other cabin leaders fell into place beside her. It was ironic, she acknowledged, how she had never wanted to be the leader in any sense of the word. Stiles had always wanted to be in charge, and for the most part, Annabeth had been content with that. But here she was, leading the entire camp, making those hard choices. She sighed, stepping up onto the porch and opening the door up for everyone else. She turned, holding the door open, and sighed again when she noticed that everyone who had followed her was making no move to go inside.

She frowned at them. "Please, c'mon, inside." They hesitated, until Piper broke the stillness. She moved forward, giving Annabeth a long look before nodding her head and going inside. Annabeth relaxed as the rest of the cabin heads followed until it was just her and Clarisse inside.

"I'm your Second." Clarisse spoke finally, her brown eyes evaluating Annabeth. "I don't care that this isn't a real war plan. I'm your Second." Annabeth paused for a moment before nodding her head wearily. Clarisse patted her on the shoulder as she entered into the doorway. It was unexpected, Annabeth mused, as she shut the door behind her, but welcome for Clarisse to claim Second.

Claiming Second was a tradition which dated back to the very establishment of Camp Half-Blood. When the Camp went to war, when there was a gathering of people for the sole intention of fighting, a Second was called. There was the leader of the camp, who in the past battles had been Percy, but had now fallen to Annabeth. For Percy, Annabeth had been his Second. It hadn't needed to be said, it was just understood. After all when was the last time that a child of Poseidon and Athena had worked together? It was essentially unheard of. For this time around, since Percy was missing, Annabeth had stepped into the role of the leader. She had assumed that Clarisse would be her Second, if war was called, mainly because of how close they had become. But her explicit statement of support was more than welcome.

Annabeth stepped into the War room, bringing all the conversations to a halt. She strode to the head chair, gesturing for Clarisse to take the seat to the right of her. Those in the know about Seconds looked astonished, whereas Piper, Leo, and Jason looked vaguely confused as to the significance of the gesture.

Connor broke the silence first. "So it's confirmed? We're returning to war?"

Annabeth ignored the gasps that others let out and shook her head. "No. Clarisse has taken on the roll of my Second merely in the case of war." She held up her hand to forestall any other questions. "Sally called me." Everyone in the room held their breath. "Percy called her."

The room exploded into action.

Connor and Travis had high-fived and were frantically gesturing at Clovis who looked wide awake for the first time in months. Katie had burst into tears, smiling at Piper, who looked happy but confused. Lou-Ellen had started chanting a mantra of thanking the Gods under his breath as Leo stared at the rest of the room. Butch was smiling at Annabeth, while Will was grinning at Jason. Jason was frowning at Clarisse who had a smirk on her face as she watched the rest of the room. Pollux scrubbed his hands over his face but was smiling underneath them.

Annabeth sighed at all of them but her true happiness was given away by her mouth quirking up to the side. Life was back in her eyes for the first time in months. "Okay, okay!" She called, letting the smile cross her face before becoming serious once again. "We need to establish a plan."

The room settled into calm once again, with everyone's attention focusing on Annabeth. Jason tentatively raised his hand. "What- actually, who is Sally?"

"Sally is Percy's mother," Clarisse answered. Jason nodded.

Piper raised her hand, "What's a Second?"

"Second in charge," Will responded. "She's the one who leads when Annabeth can't be here." He shot Annabeth a look. Annabeth arched an eyebrow at him and he shrugged, "Rachel should be here."

"I won't argue that," Annabeth said. "When she can get here, she'll be here."

"Fair." Will conceded, leaning back in his chair.

Katie frowned. "Where is Rachel?"

"She's out and about." Lou-Ellen and Clovis said in unison, before shooting each other a suspicious look.

Butch arched an eyebrow at them. "Uh huh."

Annabeth watched to two of them for a moment before turning back to the rest of the group. "Basically, I just wanted to tell you all before anyone else."

"That's it?" Pollux asked, tilting his head and frowning. "Not that it isn't enough but…"

"Well no," Annabeth answered, "We still have to make the plan but that's all the new news I have for us."

Clarisse snorted and cracked her fingers, "Alright, assholes, here's the deal. We might rarely work together but when we do, Athena and Ares are both unstoppable and unbeatable." Annabeth rolled her eyes but gestured for her to continue. "So, we're gonna continue as normal - for the most part."

As Clarisse continued to outline the plan, Jason leaned over to Will to whisper in his ear. "Annabeth and Clarisse are really good at this."

Will nodded, "This isn't even close to what they can be." He muttered out of the side of his mouth. "Add in Percy? It gets real crazy around here."

Annabeth, who was sitting only a seat away from Will had to suppress her smirk at the thought of the three of them working together. Clarisse and her may be unstoppable but when Percy added his own insight into the mix, it was a perfect balance of unpredictableness and structure that caught most off guard. Clarisse coughed, her foot reaching out and nudging Annabeth under the table to bring her back to the actual issue at hand.

Annabeth nodded once, "That sounds great. We'll let it run for a couple days and if anything needs to be fixed, bring it up to us," she said, gesturing at her and Clarisse, "and we'll take car of it."

She looked around the table. "Any questions?" They all shook their heads. "Meeting adjourned then."

Slowly, everyone stood up, glancing at her when she didn't rise. Clarisse walked them to the door, before coming back and dropping into the chair beside her. She sighed heavily. "I don't know how you do it."

Annabeth smiled shakily, "I don’t know how I do it either."

Clarisse patted her one the back, grimacing at the awkwardness of the motion. "Well, it's the beginning of the end, right?"

"Who really knows." Annabeth said, shrugging. "It's almost a guarantee that I've got another prophecy about me." Clarisse pressed her lips together fighting the urge to say anything. They sat in silence for another long moment before a knock came at the entrance of the room. Chris stood in the doorway.

"Hey," He offered uncertainly.

Clarisse groaned, "Seriously?" She tried to continue but was cut off by Annabeth snickering.

"Sorry," Annabeth said, fighting a smile, "I'll head out."

"Oh, you don’t," Chris tried to say but was cut off.

"Nah, it's fine." Annabeth said, touching Clarisse's shoulder as she moved around her, "I've got stuff to do." She squeezed past Chris, before turning back and making eye contact with Clarisse. "Thanks."

Clarisse shifted, uncomfortable about the emotion under the words but nodded once. "Welcome."

Annabeth left the Big House, sticking to the shadows and avoiding other campers. The few that she did come in contact with, either fell silent until she passed or offered shaky smiles. No one tried to speak to her, which was exactly what she was hoping for. She moved steadily through the camp, slipping between the trees of the woods, her feet taking her down the familiar path to the cove.

As she moved from the grassy path, to the sandy beach, she began to smile. By the time her feet hit the cold water, she was grinning and laughing and crying and just so damn emotional. Percy knew who he was. _Percy fucking knew who he was._ It was a goddamn miracle. She quieted after a few moments, still smiling out at the horizon. Glancing up she noticed that the Huntress constellation was hovering above her. She closed her eyes, thanking Zoe's spirit for guiding Percy, before beginning to speak.

"Lord Poseidon, he's been found. Percy, he's aware of the situation. From what Sally said, he seems to be on a quest." She paused, her smile fading as she contemplated that. "I hope he has someone who is looking after him." The waves crashed violently by her feet, as if the ocean was agreeing with her. "I'm going to find him. I'm going to bring him back. I swear, my Lord." There was a moment of absolute stillness. The wind stopped, the waves paused, and distantly, so faint she could hardly make it out, a voice spoke.

"I know." Abruptly, the cove snapped back into motion. Waves began smoothing out her sandy footprints and the wind began whistling through the trees once again. She nodded once, making an oath in her mind and in her heart that within a year, she would return with Percy to this very spot. As she turned to head to her cabin, her foot nudged against something hard. She bent, picking up the object and holding it out into the moonlight. There, in her palm, a tiny perfect conch shell glistened. Annabeth blinked, fighting the tears that suddenly appeared. "Thank you," she whispered, as she slipped back into the trees.

As she made the trek back to her cabin, she knew that it was close to the end. She was almost there. And once she made it through, nothing would hold her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of my pre-written sections. I'm working on the next couple chapters but my focus is on school. For now, don't expect an update next week. The next chapter has been giving me issues and I'll get these random spurts of inspiration but it's still a work in progress. 
> 
> My Spring Break is the second week of March and if I haven't updated since then, I will do my best to guarantee an update that week. 
> 
> Thank you all for the support, it truly means the world to me.


	6. You Have Three Faces, Three Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles advances. He's not exactly pleased by this.

  
_"A former lunatic. I'm much healthier now." - Peter Hale_  


  
  
There's not much Stiles disliked more than people who threaten his family. The only thing worse than that? When he understood why. He wanted to hate Peter Hale, leave him cursed by the Gods, and set his remains out to rot. Instead, he understood him.  
  
He got it, okay? If anyone burned down a house with, Gods forbid, Annabeth, Tony, his father, Scott, or Nico inside, he'd be on the fucking warpath. It wasn't fair that this happened to Peter. And unlike most people, he actually could do something about it.  
  
The new system for contacting a Goddess was much simpler. But Stiles felt that the touch of something pure had been lost when they had abandoned the old ways. And with a Goddess dedicated to revenge, or balance, depending on how you looked at it, he thought that the older setup would be much preferred.  
  
The issue though, was how personal the ritual was. In Ancient Greece, the majority of the Gods and Goddesses were satisfied with something like animal sacrifice or prayer. But, because revenge was personal, so very personal, the person had to sacrifice something important to them. It could be anything from something as simple as a small beautiful rock, to something as significant a whole person. Stiles knew what he was going to sacrifice.  
  
He touched the ankle sheath lovingly, before withdrawing the knife Annabeth had sent him when he was nine. He had carried it with him faithfully for over seven years. It had steadied him in times that he felt he was spinning out of control. He grit his teeth but began to set up for the ritual. He had a Goddess to summon.  
  
_"Payment will come. Revenge is balance, the yin and yang of the universe. Genim Stilinski, by the blade, you will feel the blade."_ Nemesis had said. Then she had cackled about his payment. Stiles had ignored that at the time, thinking it was worth it. He was bitterly regretting that ignorance now.  
  
Restoring Peter's mind to his former self had done wonders for the pack, kind of. Really, all it had done was establish a strange comraderance between Stiles and Peter. Derek was too suspicious of the sudden change to even try to get close to his uncle. And the rest of the pack? Forget it. After Peter had haunted Lydia for like a week no one wanted to get close to him. Stiles was far too pragmatic to think of being haunted as a reason to not use the knowledge that Peter had.  
  
It also definitely didn't help with the whole kanima thing. Jackson never fucking helped anything. Regardless, he had sacrificed so much to get Peter to where he was now. And Peter, the sneaky bastard that he was, knew there was something was off about Stiles. He had never come right out and said it but he had made comments. After he had been done possessing Lydia, he had come to see Stiles.  
  
Their conversation had gone about as well as expected. They had neither confirmed nor denied the potential of there being something more than human in Stiles' blood but they seemed to have come to a truce. Stiles would make no mention of the fact that Peter was seeking him out for more than what was strictly necessary and Peter would drop his inquiries about the other that Stiles was. Stiles wouldn't say that they were friends or that they trusted each other; but he knew that in a fight, Peter would probably hesitate before killing him. And frankly, that was the most he could hope for from the older werewolf.  
  
However, the universe seemed to have had other plans.  
  
He was dreaming, when Nemesis decided to reach out again. "Hello, Stiles." Her voice cut through the darkness as she slunk around him.  
  
Stiles forced his lips into a poor approximation of a smile. "Hello, my Lady."  
  
She stopped moving around him and summoned a chair. "His revenge isn't done yet."  
  
"Whose revenge?" Stiles asked, before frowning. "Peter."  
  
Nemesis nodded. "Exactly." She pulled a familiar knife out of her boot. "Due to our… agreement, I reserved the right to ask you of some things." She spun the knife between her hands. "Beacon Hills is currently the place where balance is being sought." She paused, frowning at something over Stiles' shoulder before refocusing on him. "You will be the striker of the balance."  
  
Stiles gaped at her, just barely remembering he was dealing with a Goddess and not some inconsequential human. "But… my Lady, I'm…"  
  
Nemesis arched an eyebrow at him. "You're…?" When Stiles remained silent, she sighed, waving a hand. "Turn around Stiles." Stiles turned, a gasp leaving his throat as he took in the scene before him.  
  
Peter had turned in a monster. He was this strange blue color and was slicing through the pack like butter. As Stiles watched, Peter killed Lydia, knocked out Boyd, ripped of Derek's arm, while single-mindedly trying to get to Scott. Both Isaac and Erica were on the floor whimpering in pain, watching as their pack-mates were killed. There was no stopping him. When their combined blood had coated the floor in a deep scarlet color, only then did the vision-Stiles step into view. Peter chuckled, a low angry sound at the sigh of the demi-god. "You could have stopped this." He said, grinning at the way Stiles flinched at his words. "You had all the power in the world, Stiles." He gestured to the broken and bleeding pack behind him. "You have forsaken them."  
  
Stiles stuttered, his voice caught in his throat. "I-I.."  
  
"I-I- you what?" He mocked, absentmindedly wiping his claws on his bloody shirt. He tsked. "Oh Stiles… when will you learn?" Stiles shuddered at the strange crooning quality that Peter's words had taken on.  
  
"Oh Stiles, when will you learn?" Nemesis echoed.  
  
Stiles clenched his eyes shut. "Stop it." The sounds from the vision faded. Stiles slowly opened his eyes, glancing around warily at his surroundings. He was standing in a long white hallways. Echoing in the distance was a steady dripping sound. He spun around, searching for Nemesis. The Goddess was nowhere to be found. "Hello?" He called uncertainly. The lack of a return of his voice freaked him out, as if the sound was almost absorbed into the white walls. He looked back and forth, noticing no difference between the directions in the hallway. Stiles shrugged and began walking in the direction he was facing. As he strode down the hallway, the dripping began increasing in frequency, causing his breathing to pick up. It felt like a horror movie, in the few moments before the jump scare, where the music builds and the dark approaches. Instead of a monster, though, Stiles stumbled through a doorway he hadn't even realized was there, stopping short at the sight before him.  
  
He was in the woods. And for some reason he knew that they weren't Californian woods. He stumbled through the underbrush, swatting branches out of the way, as he made his way to something. He wasn't quite sure what was driving him through the woods but he had decided early on in life to always trust his instincts. Abruptly, he was on a road, watching in shock as a car flew into a telephone pole. He broke out into a jog, reaching into his pocket for his phone. "Hello?" He hollered, his voice loud in the sudden silence after the crash, "I'm calling 9-11 and-" He cut off, bouncing off of a wall of something. His brows furrowed as he felt the air. It didn't feel like anything was in front of him but every time he moved forward, he was pushed back by something. He was so absorbed in his struggle that he almost missed the motorcycle pulling up beside the car. The glint of metal caught his eye though, and he froze, his heart in his chest as he watched a man with a metal arm murder the two people in the car.  
  
Nemesis suddenly appeared before him again. "Oh Stiles." She repeated, "When will you learn?" She swirled around him, her heels clicking on the pavement. "Revenge is what makes the world go round." She paused in her stride, leaning in close. He shivered as her breath hit his ear. "Don't you want revenge?"  
  
"I don't… I don't understand." Stiles whispered, his pale face still fixed on the scene. "Who are those people? Who is that man?"  
  
Nemesis threw back her head and laughed, a cruel sharp noise that scared a flock of birds from a tree. "You'll understand in time." She cracked her neck, the sound popping through the trees as the vision before Stiles rushed together. The colors condensed, overwhelming Stiles with their nauseating display. He clenched his eyes tight, cracking them open when he thought that it was safe. He was in his room. He turned, spinning on his heel as he met Nemesis's gaze head on. She smirked at him, "Wisdom always works better when you know why." He pressed his lips together. "Revenge is the core of it."  
  
"Why?" Stiles finally murmured. "Why me?"  
  
Nemesis's smirked faded and she looked serious for the first time since the strange dream had begun. "I cannot tell you."  
  
Stiles frowned. "Wait… so there's an actual reason for this?"  
  
Nemesis nodded slowly before repeating. "I cannot tell you."  
  
"Fuck." Stiles swore. "Fucking- fuck."  
  
"Balance is the key." Nemesis offered. "I am seeking nothing but the return of balance." She paused for a moment, "Though the word justice may appeal to you, more so than balance."  
  
"Why can't you just use one of your own kids?" Stiles said, his voice curving into whine, before he froze.  
  
Nemesis straightened, her back cracking into place as she elongated her spine. The aura of vague benevolence that had been surrounding her vanished. Stiles cursed himself as he lowered his gaze. Nemesis padded forward, each step a measured click against the hard wood floor of his bedroom. "I do not think you understand." She reached out, her nails grazing the top of his shorn head. "This is not a choice." Her fingers slid through the short strands until she had a grip on the back of his head. She shook his head once. "There is nothing but balance." She shook his head again. "There is nothing but justice." She titled his head back, forcing Stiles to meet her eyes. "There is nothing but revenge." The room began to dissolve behind her. She withdrew her hand from the top of his head, bringing her left hand into view. She reached into her sleeve, pulling out Stiles' knife from the ritual. She gently slid the blade across her thumb, bloodying the tip. She studied it for a moment before grazing her thumb across his forehead. She began to fade into the background, her image breaking into a dizzying swarm of locusts. As Stiles began to awaken, her voice slithered through the dark, signifying a change. "There is nothing but blood."  
  
Stiles sat up suddenly wide awake, panting wildly with Nemesis's words still echoing around him. He slowly eased back down into his bed, frowning as he ran through his memories of the dream. It didn't make sense. He hesitantly reached up to his forehead, unable to contain a shudder when his fingertips became bloodied. Glancing to the left of his bed, he froze when he saw the knife.  
  
A knock on the door broke him from his daze. "Stiles?" John called. "Are you up?"  
  
"Yeah, Dad." Stiles called back. "I'm not…feeling well…" John cracked the door open, peeking through at Stiles. He sat up, his covers sliding down and hastily wiped the blood off his forehead.  
  
John frowned as he entered the room. "You don't look too hot, son."  
  
Stiles shrugged half-heartedly, realizing that he didn't feel well either. "I woke up and just feel gross."  
  
John nodded, his eyes measuring Stiles' truthfulness before patting him on the knee. "Want me to call the school?"  
  
"If you could?" Stiles said weakly, already sliding back under his covers. "That'd be great."  
  
John nodded again, quietly leaving the room. At the click of the door shutting, Stiles relaxed, heaving out a sigh. He didn't know what was happening to himself anymore. As he slid back into sleep, his last conscious thought was wondering if Annabeth would recognize him anymore.  
  


  
***

  
_"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles." - Alan Deaton_

  
  
"Hold up." Stiles said, staring at Deaton. "Did you just say what I think you just said?" A spark? Stiles couldn't believe it. He was a child of Athena, not Hecate for God's sake. But, Deaton had been quiet and steady in his observations.  
  
The vet had observed a pulse of something 'other' during one of the pack's showdowns with the freak of the week. And honestly? Stiles was fucking done with being unique. The Gods all knew how he was blessed by Nemesis and now supposedly Hecate? Did he have anything from his mom, aside from intellect and Annabeth and Tony?  
  
Dr. Deaton was watching him measuredly. "A spark is nothing to scoff at, Mr. Stilinski."  
  
Stiles huffed. "I'm not scoffing at anything jackass." Ignoring Scott's gasp of disbelief and the beginnings of his apologies, Dr. Deaton merely raised an eyebrow at Stiles. Stiles sighed through his nose. "Sorry." He offered eventually. Deaton inclined his head.  
  
"I understand." He said measuredly. "To go from one absolute truth to another is not easy."  
  
Stiles hummed noncommittally in response. "I… have to go." Scott called after him, the fear obvious in his voice. Stiles ignored him.  
  
He left Dr. Deaton's practice, moving on autopilot as he threw his jeep into gear and drove home. His thoughts spun in all directions, leaving him with the feeling of desolation and confusion. He didn't know anything anymore. He had to, he had to call Nico, he finally decided on. Nico- not Annabeth, never Annabeth with this. He just didn't know who he was, and Nemesis was an explanation and a half, and he still hadn't told Annabeth, and there were monsters in his woods, like real monsters, and, and-. He cut his thoughts off, absently realizing that he had been steadily driving himself to a panic attack.  
  
He breathed out, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror before throwing himself out of the car. The brief look he had gotten of himself had done nothing but confuse him even more. Nico, he had to talk to Nico. He stumbled through the house, flicking on lights, banging into things, ignoring the multitude of pains that each hard jolt brought. Pain, physical pain, was almost a balm to his frenetic mind. He finally reached his bedroom, throwing his bag onto his bed, before marching into the bathroom to turn the shower on. The misting water created a perfect rainbow in the light. Stiles steeled himself for a moment before tossing the coin through with his customary greeting to Iris.  
  
Nico slowly flickered into existence, his picture slower in forming than usual. "Stiles?" He asked, frowning at him. "You don't look so good."  
  
"They think I have a spark in my body." Stiles blurted out, closing his eyes. "They think I have a spark and I don't- I can't-" A raspy chuckle slid through the connection, startling Stiles into opening his eyes. Out of all the reactions he had expected, laughter was the last one. "It isn't funny." He said, hotly. "There's nothing funny about the fact that I'm full of other Gods and nothing connects me to Mother."  
  
Nico stopped laughing, wincing at the accusation. "Stiles you have Annabeth."  
  
"I haven't told her any of this," Stiles admitted, worrying his lip between his teeth.  
  
"Stiles-" Nico admonished, before sighing. "It doesn't matter anyway."  
  
"What? How?"  
  
"The spark you speak of is inherent in all demigods." Stiles stopped breathing, leaning in closer to Nico as if it would bring him closer to the truth. "You aren't blessed by Hecate anymore than I am." He shrugged gracelessly. "Mortals believe that the godliness is something more than what it actually is. It's like the other half of our DNA, you know?" Stiles nodded helplessly. "So, it's just-" He broke off. "Just, don't worry about it."  
  
"Okay?" Stiles dragged out. "So like I just, ignore it?"  
  
Nico shrugged again. "Just don't worry about it. If you can work with it, I guess?"  
  
Stiles nodded absently, his mind spinning in a bunch of directions. "So-" He cut himself off, hearing his window slid up. He cursed under his breath, nodding once at Nico before wiping a hand through the connection.  
  
He rushed out of the bathroom, almost forgetting to turn off the shower before he stumbled back into his room. "Derek?" He asked, flicking on the light. "What's up?"  
  
Derek scowled, awkwardly perched on the windowsill. "Who were you talking to?"  
  
"Me?" Stiles said, putting a hand over his heart and rolling his eyes. "I wasn't talking to anyone. No one's here Derek." He gestured to the bathroom. "Go ahead and sniff around but you won't find anything."  
  
Derek eyed him for a long moment before sliding the rest of his body in through the window. "We have a problem."  
  
Stiles nodded once, cracking his fingers. "I figured, what's the sitch?"  
  
Derek raised an eyebrow at him. "Treat this seriously."  
  
"Mmhmm," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, dude." Derek opted to ignore him, instead reaching into his jacket to pull out a wad of rolled up loose papers. He laid them out across the desk, gesturing. Stiles leaned in, frowning at the pages, his fingers already tracing the connections he could see.  
  


  
***

  
_"Three things that cannot be long hidden. The sun, the moon, the truth." - Buddha_

  
  
"Fucking work," Stiles muttered under his breath. "What the fuck, why isn't this working?"  
  
"Too much pressure?" Peter offered, never looking up from the book he was reading across the room.  
  
"Fuck off." Stiles said, shortly. He scrambled to light another match, ignoring the Peter, as he sighed and set down the book he was reading. Stiles glanced up when the shadow fell across his desk. "What do you want?" He asked sourly.  
  
Peter ignored the question, focusing instead on the strange shrine that Stiles had built on his desk. "What's this for?"  
  
Stiles sighed, "Protections." He glanced out of his window, eyeing the waning crescent moon. "I'm only human, you know?" Neither of them acknowledged the uptick in his heartbeat at his obvious lie. Roughly a month after Peter had come back, Stiles had decided to stop hiding his lies from Peter. It was pointless when the older wolf already knew something was up.  
  
Peter studied the shrine for a long moment, his eyes tracing over symbols he didn't understand. "I suppose," He began, "You could let me in on-" He cut himself off, cocking his head.  
  
"Yeah right asshole." Stiles retorted, leaning back in his chair to watch Peter.  
  
Peter swallowed hard, frowning before nodding once. "I have to go."  
  
"Wait, wha-?"  
  
He titled his head to the window. "Our illustrious alpha calls."  
  
"But," Stiles spluttered, scowling at Peter as he easily jumped down from his window. "Show off," He called, rolling his eyes. He stared into the darkness for a moment before muttering, "Not my alpha." In the distance a howl rose, thin and wavering, almost in response. "Fucking fine!" Stiles yelled out the window. "Whatever." He sat down, trying to ignore the warmth in his chest at supposed response.  
  
He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was just slightly off in the groundwork for the protection he was trying to build for himself. Ever since that day in Deaton's clinic, he had been trying to harness his inherent spark. This was his first real attempt though.  
  
He had called Nico three days ago to pick his brain about whether or not it was a good idea to even try something like 'magic'. Nico had hesitantly agreed that it might be worth something to try but cautioned him to something that would only improve himself. Stiles had promptly decided to try a moon protection, though he hadn't informed Nico. He had scrounged through some books that Annabeth had left behind before deciding on appealing to Selene, the former goddess of the moon.  
  
He had begrudgingly admit that he was a little upset at how behind he was in regards to strength when it came to dealing with werewolves. He was just so used to being the strongest, even if no one knew it. And now, now, he was just this useless lump who probably would die. He was definitely hoping that if he was connected to the moon he could help be more than just a human. And in the corner of his mind, if he wanted to be like fucking Princess Yue from _Avatar the Last Airbender_ , who could belittle him for that? Princess Yue was fucking badass.  
  
Stiles stretched, cracking his back. Every slow pop woke him up a little bit more. He had to get the ritual done tonight. It was the correct moon phase and he didn't want to wait a solid moon cycle to try again. He bent back of his desk, ignoring everything except to glance at the sky every so often to check on the moon. He wrote out the last interlocking rune on the 6th sheet of paper and shakily reached out for his lighter.  
  
This was it. _This was fucking it._  
  
He would find out if he was 'magical' and if he could actually feel like he could do something. He shook his head, frowning at the distressingly frequent thoughts of his subpar humanity. It wasn't his fault that he hadn't been bit. It was actually a good thing. He had asked Nico what could've happened if he had been bit. Nico had pressed his lips together and said nothing for a long enough moment that Stiles had changed the subject.  
  
He flicked his lighter, glancing out the window to check that the moonlight was hitting his desk. He lit the first rune, catching his breath as it burned. The rune quickly caught on fire, the flames tracing the pattern, lighting nothing but the broad strokes of ink as it burned. Stiles waited until all of them were on fire before scooching his chair back.  
  
The book hadn't been clear on what exactly was going to happen after. He was just praying with all his might that Lady Artemis wasn't about to show up in his room. The flames on his desk whooshed upwards bathing the room in light before completely snuffing out. There was no smoke and Stiles was so wrapped up in inching closer to examining the runes left, that he almost missed the moonlight bending into the shape of a woman.  
  
Stiles froze, holding his breath at the woman turned to face him. At the sight of her face, he lurched backwards. "Mom?" He whispered.  
  
The woman laughed, "Is that who you see?" She stroked her hand through her brown tresses. "Huh."  
  
"I can't-" Stiles stuttered. "I don't- You need to- I can't-" He cut himself off, holding his hand over his eyes. "Please. Please. Just-" A cool hand touched his forehead, scaring him into flinching backwards. He slammed his elbow into his bed frame and cursed, dropping his hand which was hiding his eyes from her.  
  
"Okay." The woman said softly. "It's okay." As Stiles watched, a small part of him soaking in the look of his mother all these years later, her face changed. The warm brown eyes changed to a light blue as the scar that marked the corner of her jaw shifted into smooth skin. Her face smoothed out, the wrinkles disappearing in a matter of seconds, as her hair changed to a blonde bob. By the time Stiles took in her new appearance, she had shifted into a young woman. "Now then," she said, shaking out her hair. "What exactly did you want to see me for?"  
  
"You're-" Stile began, licking his lips nervously. "You're Lady Selene?"  
  
"Oh sweetie." Lady Selene laughed. "Yes. I suppose that's who I am." She took a seat in his chair, her eyes measuring him. "Now answer my question."  
  
"I, uh," Stiles said. "I was wondering if I could gain protection from the moon."  
  
"Mmmhmm," she said, cocking an eyebrow. "And you deserve this because?"  
  
"I don't?" Stiles answered wincing at his tone. "It's more so that it would make my life easier? My Lady," he added, wincing as he straightened up from his reclined position.  
  
"Refreshing." Lady Selene remarked. "And you chose me because Artemis is the boy-hater." She smirked at him. "Insolence is common for you, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes?" Stiles said, worrying at his lip.  
  
"Nemesis has marked you as hers." Lady Selene said, standing. "I refuse to help you."  
  
"Please," Stiles slid to his knees with a heavy thump. "Please."  
  
Lady Selene studied him for a long moment before shrugging. "Why?"  
  
"I run with wolves, my Lady. I need something to keep up with them. They answer your call and they heed your rule."  
  
She smirked. "They also have no idea who you are."  
  
Stiles nodded. "That may be true but I wouldn't let them go alone even if I were just a human." She hummed at his words and Stiles rushed to continue. "Please, my Lady. It's the only thing I could think of."  
  
"I doubt that," She said, rolling her eyes at him. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to help." She tilted her head, before nodding once to herself. She touched his papers with all of the runes on them, guiding them into a book. "There is your help, boy." Stiles deflated in relief, slumping onto the ground. She crossed over the room, leaving the pool of moonlight for the first time since she had arrived. "You are not mine, but the more you use the help I have left you, the more potential you have to become mine." She nudged him with her foot. "Do not ever call me again."  
  
Stiles nodded weakly, closing his eyes. By the time he finally felt like he could open his eyes and face her again, she had vanished. He laid on the floor for a long time, slipping in and out of sleep.  
  
He opened his eyes to Peter sitting in his desk chair frowning at one point.  
  
"What happened?" Peter asked, sniffing the air conspicuously.  
  
Stiles sighed. "I wish I could tell you." Peter's low chuckle answered him. Stiles sighed again, letting his lips quirk up into a small smile as Peter scooped him up and bundled him to bed. "Screw off."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW. I'M SO SORRY. This is totally a week late and I apologize for that. This chapter was hard to figure out and it took me a while to figure out how to start to build into things that I want to happen later. 
> 
> In case you're confused, this is set at various snapshots over the course of the second season, and kind of the first. Basically, it's your choice where you want them to fit. They just all are before the third season. That's the most important distinction to make. The bending of the timeline is going to start around here, in case you hadn't already seen that I was starting that. 
> 
> New-ish style of writing. Probably not going to happen again, if I'm going to be honest. Shoutout to my wonderful editor who actually knew what they were doing and how to write cohesively. Ugh, you're the best. 
> 
> Real life is KICKING my ass. I'm not totally putting this on hold, but I am going to slow the guaranteed updates down to once a month until summer break begins. (That's Mayish.)


	7. Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last meet up before the entire world implodes.

"What the fuck?" Annabeth said, staring at Stiles' floor. "Why is there bloodstains everywhere?"

 

"Werewolves?" Stiles offered, wincing at her look.

 

Annabeth snorted. "Right." She paused, spinning in place, taking in all the changes Stiles' bedroom has taken on. There were elements of danger that were hidden in plain sight. Her eyes caught on lots of concealed weapons, some strange containers, and of course the blood that was subtly speckling the floor. She suspected that she only saw the blood because she had lived at camp for so long. "Well?"

 

"Well, what?" Stiles asked.

 

"Well, what's happening?" Annabeth said, frowning at Stiles. He didn't answer, staring at her. "Are you okay?"

 

"Am I okay?" Stiles choked on a dry laugh, "Annabeth, are you okay?" She opened her mouth but he held up a hand. "You gave me a three day warning, which is fine, you know I love you, so like it's whatever. But you come here, you say you're doing something dangerous, and you avoid all of my questions."

 

Annabeth titled her head, taking in the way Stiles' glance kept flickering to his open window behind her. She rocked backwards on her heels, slowly moving to the window. Panic flashed across Stiles' face, before he tried to smile at her. She ached an eyebrow, before spinning and slamming the window shut. Stiles jumped, his thump doing nothing to hide the sounds of someone on the roof. She smirked at him. "That's what I thought."

 

"Annabeth…" Stiles dragged out, trying to hide his smile.

 

She shrugged, striding over to Stiles' bed and patting the cover. "C'mon." Stiles edged over to the bed, halfheartedly dragging his feet. "Sit." She pointed at the end of the bed, laying down and staring straight up at the ceiling. Stiles sighed but slid onto the bed, their leg tangling in the middle.

 

It was an old habit, one built from their awkward child years, when they didn't want to fight but they also just had to get their shit off their chest. So they would lie down together, tangled up, completely aware of each other, and talk to the ceiling.

 

Annabeth breathed out, the low exhale releasing the tension she had been carrying all day. "Now," She began. "What is it?"  

 

"I just…" Stiles began. "You, Tony. You're doing the most and I just feel…"

 

"What?" Annabeth prompted, when Stiles didn't go on. "You're feeling what? Wrong? Out of place?" She sighed when he didn't answer. "Stiles… we're the same."

 

"What?" Stiles said, confusion in his voice. "No, we aren't."

 

"Yes, we are," Annabeth said. She hated conversations like this. Nothing ever came out the way it sounded in her head. "You are the glue of this family." Stiles made a noise in the back of his throat and she rolled her eyes. "No, seriously. Listen." She paused for a moment. "I'm not saying this to begrudge you or whatever, but like, you and Tony have a bond that I don't know if I'll ever have. And, no," she said, her voice overriding his. "You don't get to question that or push me to talk because after this, I can't focus on that, okay Stiles?"

 

Stiles didn't reply, instead knocking his knee into hers. She deflated slowly, frowning at the ceiling. "It feels like I'm doing more than I actually am, I promise you." She choked back her words of fear and sadness. "You're dealing with werewolves, Stiles. Actual, real-life, _werewolves._ I promise you're doing enough."

 

She reached down, patting his ankle. "Just because both Tony and I have to leave the country to probably fuck ourselves up doesn't mean you aren't doing enough here." She squeezed her eyes together, ignoring the small tears that trickled down her face. "Don't - don't think that, okay? Don't ever think that."

 

Stiles hummed in the back of his throat. "Okay," he whispered. "It just makes me nervous."

 

Annabeth chuckled. "It makes all of us nervous."

 

"I think I fucked up," Stiles said after a few moments of silence had passed. Annabeth didn't say anything, instead knocking her knee into his. "I don't-" He cut himself off, drawing his legs away from Annabeth and tensing. "Nemesisclaimedmeasherown."

 

"I didn't-"

 

"Nemesis claimed me as her own."

 

The silence in the room was deafening. Annabeth resisted the urge to sit up and yell. Instead, she very calmly stayed laying down. "What."

 

Stiles shifted until he was laying on his side, staring at the door. "I didn’t know what was going to happen." Annabeth groaned low in her throat. "Okay, okay," Stiles ceded. "Maybe I did know what was gonna happen."

 

"I swear to-"

 

"Annabeth." Stiles interrupted. "It's over. It's already been done." He shifted again, squirming backwards until he was flush with her side. She sighed under her breath, rolling over until she faced the wall. Stiles continued, once they had finished moving. "I truly didn't mean for it to happen. And," he said, rushing through his words, "once it did happen, I didn't want to add to your plate." She mumbled something at him, which he ignored. "You had too much to do." He reached down, grabbing her hand. "Putting this on you, especially when you didn't know where Percy was would've been too much."

 

Annabeth was silent for a long moment. "Anything else I should know about?" She asked, lifting her head to make eye contact with Stiles. He nodded slowly. She swore, letting her head thump back down onto the pillow. "Goddamnit Stiles."

 

He winced. "It's not as bad?" He offered.

 

"Uh huh," Annabeth said dryly. "Sure."

 

"Lady Selene almost blessed me kinda but Nemesis has some claim over me so instead she just gave me a book."

 

"A book."

 

"Yeah," Stiles said, getting up and grabbing it from his desk. "Look."

 

Annabeth reached out slowly, letting her hand hover over the cover like she thought it would shock her. When nothing happened, she let her fingertips slowly touch the book, a look of wonder coming over her face. "Lady Selene… gave this to you?"

 

Stiles nodded, flipping the pages until he was about a third of the way through. "It's completely fascinating. There are rituals for everything you could possibly think of, and twice the amount of blessings." He paused for a moment, tracing a letter with a finger before focusing back on the conversation. "Anyways before you have to go, I wanted to show you this." He pointed at a small paragraph at the bottom of the page. "It's an alternative to Iris-Messaging."

 

Annabeth took in the words, My Lady Selene, I need your moonlight to light the way to your blessed. Moonlight guides me though I walk in shadow, along with the small note that all a person needed was moonlight and a pool of water. Stiles nudged her and pointed at his desk where a bowl sat full of water.

 

"I tested it out last night." He tried not to grin smugly but the corners of his mouth tilted upwards and gave him away. "It works."

 

"Stiles…" Annabeth breathed out. "We can stay in contact over the quest."

 

Stiles' smirk shattered into something more fragile. "I know, Bethy," he said quietly. "I know." Annabeth cut him off, throwing her arms around him. Stiles hugged her back just as fiercely.

 

They stayed together for a long moment, drawing back slowly as if they were afraid the other would disappear from their eyes. Stiles opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the garage door rattling open. "Shit," Annabeth swore. "John can't see me." She swung herself off the bed, grabbing her shoes and her backpack before striding over to the window and throwing It open. She turned to Stiles. "I have to go."

 

He eyed, frowning at her frazzled appearance. Annabeth thought she could feel his gaze measuring her. Finally, after a minute had ticked by, he nodded slowly. "Out the window, take the right path to the Hale House, I'm assuming that's your rendezvous point."

 

"A little North of that, but yeah, basically." She swung one leg out the window. "Love you. Stay safe." She shakily smiled at him, before dropping from the window to the tree. As she scaled down, she heard Stiles answering 'love you too' and squeezed her eyes tight fighting to stop crying. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.

 

And even though, she liked to claim that long ago she had made her peace with it. She hadn't.

 

*

 

Running through the woods was almost… nostalgic for Annabeth. The familiar trees welcomed her home. She didn't take her time per say, on her jog to meet the Argo II, but she definitely took a few extra paths on her way. She knew she was close, not only because of the hum of the engines but also because she could hear Leo yelling. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

 

She never expected to miss the days leading up to the Titan War, but sometimes, she couldn't help it. Back then, no matter what, she knew she was on a solid team. Even before she and Clarisse and Percy had come to the strange truce they had found themselves in, she knew that they could count on Clarisse to have their back.

 

It was different now.

 

Now, she was relying on a team of strangers, who, first and foremost, were mostly strangers. And even though Percy had been a stranger, when they had gone on that quest, she still had known that he was Greek.

 

She didn't want to contemplate the fact that she had a Roman covering her back. It made her uneasy. She knew that Jason was, at the very least, an okay guy. But he didn’t quite get the Greeks. He had never slipped into their way of living the way Piper or Leo had.

 

She didn't want to judge but she also just didn't understand. Why would someone be so focused on the rigidness of their learning style to be unable to adapt? It baffled her. The Greek life was all about adaptation and smooth movements and fluidity. The Roman way of fighting made her think about how once Stiles had challenged her to build a small scale replica of the Beacon Hills Town Hall using on the correct colors for everything. She had almost done it, but was missing a few finishing pieces of the roof and columns. The end result hadn't been "bad" looking, it just was clearly not complete or all the way right. It made her want to scream in frustration.

 

Fighting with Jason always brought the same feelings of frustration. She wanted to shake him and demand to know why he used the same moves over and over again. She didn't care that nine times out of ten it worked- it was predicable. And to a Greek, if you were predictable, you were dead.

 

She shook of her feelings, carefully schooling her face into a neutral expression. She whistled the code, smirking as Leo gave a little shout of fright.

 

"GAH," He glared at her as he threw down the rope ladder. "I don't even know how you snuck up on us! I was watching this side and Festus was on the other, and Pipes was here somewhere too." He stared at her, peering over the edge of the ship as she climbed steadily. "How?"

 

Annabeth snorted quietly, ignoring his questions as he was hip checked out of the way. Piper leaned down, extending her hand. "Ignore him," She advised. "I normally do."

 

"Hey!" Leo shouted. "Rude."

 

Annabeth allowed a small smile to cross her face as she thanked Piper. "Thanks for picking me up."

 

"Hey!" Leo shouted again. "I'm the captain of this-"

 

Piper talked over him. "Of course." She flicked her eyes up and down Annabeth. "You look better."

 

"It's the California air." Annabeth said drily. "It was just what I needed."

 

Piper nodded slowly, a glint in her eyes as she took in what Annabeth wasn't saying. "I'm glad."

 

"Piper?" Jason called, as he came up the stairs to the deck, "Do you want to- Oh, Annabeth, I didn't realize you were back."

 

"I just got here." Annabeth said, turning to face Leo, "We can go now, if you're set."

 

"If I'm set?" Leo grumbled, making his way to the controls. "I'm set- I've been set…" He continued muttering to himself as Annabeth rolled her eyes.

 

Piper and Jason stood before her, almost as if waiting for instructions. She cocked her eyebrow at them. "Is there something I need to know…?" She let her voice trail off, titling her head as she waited.

 

Piper blushed faintly as she shook her head, before grabbing Jason's hand and dragging him off to spar. "Let's go Sparky." Jason's protests reached her ears as she leaned over the edge pulling the ladder up. She paused in her actions as Leo lifted the Argo II off the ground in a smooth motion.

  
As they rose higher and higher, Annabeth caught sight of the Hale house, its roof still burnt and the south side of it collapsing in. She squinted, peering at the ground as some came out from the house to turn and stare at the Argo II as it rose into the sky.

 

She grinned slightly at the thought of a stunned Derek, or, even better, a flabbergasted Peter. She was so focused on the house and its lone occupant that she nearly stabbed Leo when he tapped her on the shoulder.

 

"Woah there!" Leo cried, dodging backwards. "Did you just-" He cut himself off, his eyes fixed on the Hale house. "Holy shit." He hooked his arm over the balustrade, leaning his body over the edge. "That's not…" He paused, trailing off.

 

Annabeth sighed, breathing out through her nose. "That's the Hale house."

 

Leo paused in his stretched to see, looking back at Annabeth over his shoulder. "What happened?"

 

Annabeth frowned, her brows furrowing before she reached out and yanked him back onto the ship. "It was a house fire." He opened his mouth and she shook her head. "Don't." Her face smoothed out into a blank look. "How long until we reach the Roman camp?"

 

"What?" Leo asked shooting her a questioning look. "I thought…" He shook his head, flashing her a grin. "We actually are gonna entire the valley really soon."

 

"Good." Annabeth said, spinning to face the front of the ship. "They aren’t gonna know what hit them."

 

*

"Nothing about this is right," A low voice greeted Hestia as soon as she entered the small cabin off to the side of the God's throne room. "The twins, separated? And the prophecy coming to fruition?" He shook his head at her. "Fate is cruel."

She smiled at him, taking a seat beside him. "Your worry for Athena does you credit, Brother."

Poseidon snorted. "It is not Athena who I worry for," He rumbled. "At least not as a top priority." He shook his head again. "There has never been a prophecy like this one that," He paused, swallowing hard. "Percy is involved in."

Hestia shrugged. "There has never been one like the twins' prophecy either." His eyes flickered to hers in an unsubtle display of concern. "Do not worry, Earth shaker."

"I hate that nickname." Poseidon muttered.

Hestia smirked. "Oh, I know." They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the slow journey of the Argo II into Camp Jupiter. Eventually Poseidon shifted to face her, his movement causing him to miss the smooth flip of Percy over Annabeth's back. Hestia held in the smile that threatened to break out on her face, instead arching her eyebrow at Poseidon. "Yes?"

"Are you not worried?" Poseidon forced the words out of his mouth, as if he was afraid that they would stay inside of him forever, "Truly?" He asked again, his eyes narrowing on Hestia's face. "Not at all?"

"It is as if you all forget who is the oldest here." Hestia sighed. "You forget who fell first into father's stomach."

"Forgive me, Sister," Poseidon said, lowering his eyes.

She waved a hand at him. "I do not hold your words against you. They come from concern." She shrugged once more. "The prophecy will come. I do not hold that against anyone, any more than I hold your words against you." They fell silent for a moment, before Hestia rose gracefully. She turned to go, pausing in the doorway. "I do not need protecting. I may not be a true Olympian, but I am the last."

She left the cabin, her skirts swirling around her ankles as she walked. It was, she mused, turning out to be quite the day.

 

*

 

Far below Olympus, laughter echoed in the caves. "I can't believe that you were right." She said, snickering at him.

He rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you thought that I would be wrong about this." He straightened for a moment, causing her laughter to cease. "Someone's coming." They turned as one, slipping into battle ready stances, bringing their swirling power to the surface, only to relax when they saw the familiar tangle of curly hair.

"Well," She said, entering the caves. "Looks like it's almost our time to shine."

"It's a shame," he responded, "that we have to take such drastic measures." He locked eyes with the woman so coated in darkness he almost couldn't see her. "But, I suppose that's the price you pay to take over the world."

 

"Come now," she answered, a small smirk playing around the corners of her mouth. "It's almost as if you don't know the true power of Olympus." She rolled her eyes at their late companion. "The best things always come from the night."

 

The other woman smiled. "Night has always been an agent of chaos." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Shall we cease speaking in riddles and actually get on with it?"

 

The three exchanged a look, before nodding once, completely entrenched in the belief that finally, they would be able to end the Silver Age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW. I know, I'm the worst. 
> 
> You know when you think you have everything all set and ready to go but it turns out life hates you and everything you try to do. Yeah? Well, that was me the last month and a half. 
> 
> Currently, glycol has been found in the water in the place that I'm staying. In case you don't know, (which I didn't), that's antifreeze. Literal antifreeze has been found in my water. I cannot with this summer already.
> 
> I'm working two jobs this summer and believe me, this is still a priority, but I've got the bills to pay so it's like 3rd on the list of most important. I have to find housing for next year, and then I have to think about the real world since I'm graduating college in like a year. 
> 
> I promise I'm still working on this. I want to finish the series, and I've been working on setting up the forth 'book' since the first one so, believe me, I really want to finish. Some of my chapters have massive portions written out, some don't. Inspiration can be a bitch, but such is life. 
> 
> Shout out to my editor, and to the people who kept commenting and favoriting the story even as I failed to stick with weekly updates. Y'all are the real MPV's. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you all have a great week and I'll try to get the next chapter up by the end of the second week in June. I'm gonna try for bi-weekly (twice a month) updates in summer, at least until a balance has been struck.


	8. Destruction On The Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not going well.

Tony was sick of feeling like nothing he did mattered. He'd tried to protect his younger siblings only to have them fall into more danger as each year passed. He tried to protect Pepper, only for that to blow up in his face.

It felt like every time he took one step forward, or sometimes even thought about moving forward, that the universe pushed him back two. So, he'd decided to blow up the suits.

 

It wasn't a decision made lightly.

 

He'd almost instantly regretted it.

 

It wasn't, like Pepper argued, the fact that he liked danger so much that he searched for it. It was that there were no other options for him. He had to be Iron Man, just as much as Pepper had to become the CEO. There were no other options, no other paths. They were both destined to become who they were. To ignore it seemed cruel to themselves.

 

Even with the outside pressures, Tony knew that he had to be Iron Man. He just had to be.

 

There might be other people, other supposed superheroes, who sought to bring justice and balance to the world. It wasn't like that for Tony. Sure, he was out there, proud to be fighting for the little guy. But, when it came down to it, he needed to be Iron Man to help clear the blood off of his hands.

 

He had spent too many decades letting his name become synonymous with blood. And so, he needed to clean himself of that.

 

As much as he wished he could be pure and solid, and a true player for the right thing, he knew that in his heart of hearts, he had pushed through with Iron Man for his own selfish reasons. Now, he was stuck with it.

 

He waved his right hand at the lab table, letting Jarvis power up the schematics for his suit. There were no words exchanged between the two. Jarvis knew Tony better than Tony knew himself. He sighed, absentmindedly twirling the suit's layout, as he pondered what to do.

 

It wasn’t fair. He knew that, but it still wasn't.

 

***

 

It had only been three days since Pepper had fallen into the exploding ship and it was under 24 hours since Tony had gotten extremis balanced within her system.

 

He had so much to do, he didn't even know where to start. Stiles had called him only a few hours ago, and if he wasn't so wrapped up in his own issues, Tony would've been wary of how long it took Stiles to call him. He had stopped expecting Annabeth to call long ago, understanding but disliking the rule of technology that came with her attending camp.

 

Dummy slowly crept up beside him, his singular arm whirring as he shook the smoothie at Tony. Tony sighed, patting the bot on the arm as he took the cup. "Thanks Dummy. Jarvis?"

 

"It appears he has not put any suspicious substances in the cup, Sir." Jarvis answered. "Though, it was made with twice the amount of spinach and three ice cubes."

 

Tony shook his head. "Delicious, as always then." He took a small sip, grimacing at the taste. "Back to the drawing board, J?" He asked, referencing the current plans floating in front of him.

 

"Indeed Sir."

 

***

 

Minerva frowned, tilting her head at the floating image. "Vulcan."

 

The man turned from the forge, his face shrouded in darkness. "Ah yes. That."

 

Minerva rolled her shoulders back. "That looks familiar." She shook her head, her image slipping back into Athena. "My son," She whispered, a single moment of clarity before it disappeared. She turned to go, muttering senseless things into the dark.

 

Vulcan watched her go, his face betraying nothing, as the image of the iron man armor floated above the flames for a long moment before it dissolved into meaningless fragments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry - it's been another wild month. 
> 
> This is very short but needed. I may expand on it later, but it currently is standing as is. I'm working on the next chapter and I hope to have it up before the end of June. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story, it means the world to me.


	9. Don't Look Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles glanced over his shoulder, taking in the two huddled shapes on the floor. "And Erica and Boyd?" 
> 
> "They're… recovering." Peter answered a glint in his eyes as he surveyed the damaged betas. They had come back together at the husk of the Hale house, the only light being the half sliver of moon in the sky. Stiles was still unsure of why he, of all of them, had been drawn back, but here he was, angry and just reckless enough to not walk away from all of it. He stifled an urge to put his head in his hands and call Annabeth.

 

"So… Jackson's okay?" Stiles asked, repressing a frown. "He's not a lizard anymore?" 

 

Derek sighed. "Yes." 

 

Stiles glanced over his shoulder, taking in the two huddled shapes on the floor. "And Erica and Boyd?"

 

"They're… recovering." Peter answered a glint in his eyes as he surveyed the damaged betas. They had come back together at the husk of the Hale house, the only light being the half sliver of moon in the sky. Stiles was still unsure of why he, of all of them, had been drawn back, but here he was, angry and just reckless enough to not walk away from all of it. He stifled an urge to put his head in his hands and call Annabeth.

 

"I'm just… confused." Stiles confessed. Derek sighed again like he was purposefully being difficult. Stiles shot him a glare. "Shut up Derek."

 

Derek rolled his eyes. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen up." Stiles nodded. "After you got let go, someone, we think Chris, snuck to the basement and let Erica and Boyd go." Stiles opened his mouth and then shut it again. Derek narrowed his eyes but continued. "They ran here. I told them to stay here, I was going to get help."

 

Peter snorted. "I'm sure that's exactly what you said."

 

Derek ignored him. "We," he gestured to Peter and himself, "went to the warehouse and you saw what happened with Jackson."

 

"But… did I?" Stiles said, shaking his head. "That was so bizarre."

 

"Why?" Derek asked, immediately looking upset that he had asked.

 

Stiles arched an incredulous eyebrow at him, as Peter covered his laughter with a hand. "Are you serious? I hit Jackson with a car and he turned into a werewolf." He rubbed the side of his temples, "Fuck man, is that normal?"

 

Peter patted Stiles on the shoulder. The lack of a flinch had Derek narrowing his eyes. When had that happened? Why were Stiles and Peter so close? Had he really missed so much as to miss that? He frowned, tuning back into the conversation and ignoring whatever it was that Peter was saying. "Why can he touch you?" 

 

"What?" Stiles said blankly, staring at Derek. "Who? Scott?" He rolled his eyes, "You seriously haven't been paying attention to us if-"

 

"No," Derek growled. "Why can Peter touch you?"

 

"Ohhh," Stiles said, squinting at Derek. There was a pause. "I think you're deflecting."

 

Derek's mouth hung open for a moment before he snapped it shut.  "What."

 

"Yeah!" Stiles said, growing animated. "You're totally deflecting."

 

"I'm not-"

 

"Sureeee you're not Sourwolf. Sureee."

 

"What would I even-"

 

"Obvs the fact that you didn't know that Scott and I were bros." Peter raised an eyebrow at Stiles behind his back. 'Were' was quite an interesting word choice.

 

Derek growled again. "Forget it."

 

"Uh huh," Stiles said, saluting him. "Sure thing Captain." Derek huffed and pushed past Stiles, heading to tend to Boyd and Erica's wounds. Stiles snickered at him before following him over and dropping to his knees beside Erica. "Hey there, Catwoman," he said softly, ignoring Derek's alpha-red glare.

 

Erica shifted closer to Stiles, the brief movement causing pain to shoot across her face. "Sti- Stiles," she croaked, reaching up to pat his face. "You're-" She coughed, starting again. "You're a hero."

 

Stiles gently caught her hand. "The only hero here is you." She shook her head, a grimace crossing her face. He ignored her reaction, turning to face Derek. "So what now?"

 

"Now, we re-group," Peter answered instead. "We have to be smart about this."

 

"Why?" Stiles asked. He made a face and shifted into a more comfortable position, bringing Erica's head onto his lap. "Not like, why do we have to be smart, because like that's already obvious, but, it's so obvious that it's suspicious that you felt the need to verbalize it." Derek and Peter exchanged a look. "I don't like that." Stiles said, shaking his head. "No, like I really don't like that."

 

Erica reached up and touched his face. As soon as her finger hit the right side, he flinched minutely and then froze. "Stiles," Peter purred, hiding the scowl that had appeared and sauntering forward. "What was that?"

 

"What was what?" Stiles babbled, flicking his eyes around the room before they landed on Erica.

 

She tried to smile up at him, "Sorry," she whispered. "I- it's covered up."

 

Stiles tried to smile back, but his mouth wouldn't form a smile. "I've always got to look my best to save you, don't I?"

 

"Wait," Derek said slowly, frowning at him and shift around to peer at Stiles more closely. "What happened to you?"

 

"Nothing," Stiles tried, getting a light tap on his hidden bruise for the effort. He clenched his jaw.

 

"He was there," Boyd rasped out, having been steadily climbing back into consciousness for the past half hour. "He was there."

 

"Ohmygod," Stiles sighed, reaching out and patting Boyd's leg. "You okay there?" Boyd nodded, closing his eyes and shifting closer to Stiles and Erica.

 

"Where?" Derek asked, furrowing his brows.

 

"I wasn't-" Stiles tried again but subsided when Erica tapped his face again.

 

"Basement." She whispered. "He bled a lot for us." A tear leaked from under her lashes. "He did a lot for us."

 

"Basement?" Derek echoed. Peter swore. "The Argent Basement?"

 

Stiles nodded at Derek, tilting his head at the look of guilt on his face. "You okay there Derek?" Derek shook his head and turned abruptly, striding further into the darkened Hale house. Stiles watched him go, a frown marring his face. He glanced at Peter, before turning his attention back to Erica. "Is there anything I can do?"

 

"No," Peter answered. "The damage isn't because of wolfsbane, and so all we can do is wait."

 

"Can we at least put them on a couch?" Peter snorted softly and Stiles glared at him. "You fuckers don't even have a couch?"

 

Derek reappeared, dragging a dirty mattress. Stiles stared at it in dismay. "Please tell me you sleep elsewhere." Derek looked away, hiding his face from Stiles. "Derek," Stiles said. "Please tell me you don't sleep on that mattress." He didn't respond, instead gently lifting Boyd onto the sooty mattress.

 

Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face, as Peter patted him on the back, this time careful to hide the casual movement from Derek. "Where do you sleep?" Stiles asked.

 

Peter rolled his eyes. "In the loft."

 

"The loft?" Stiles echoed. "What? Where?"

 

"Downtown," Derek answered, moving Boyd slightly to make room for Erica. "He's been trying to convince me to move there."

 

"Well yeah, duh," Peter said. "We own the building. You don't have to pay rent and you don't have to share an apartment with me."

 

"Holy shit," Stiles said. "I can't." He scooted forward so that he was able to still hold Erica's hand as Derek lifted her from the floor and placed her on the mattress. "You've gotta stop with this shit," Stiles said, eventually, as he watched the two beta's curl into each other. "You have to keep it together." He gestured with his unoccupied hand. "For them."

***

"This is nice," Boyd said, turning from the windows. Stiles' eyes caught on how broad he looked in the reflection in the dark windows, almost missing the rest of the exchange.

 

"Of course it is," Peter scoffed. Derek merely nodded.

 

Stiles closed his eyes for a moment and then re-opened them. "You guys are so bad at this."

 

Erica grinned at him before turning to Derek. "HOLY SHIT, THIS IS SO COOL." She screamed, breaking off into giggles as everyone except Stiles flinched.

 

"Brilliant," Stiles said, holding his fist out for an appreciative fist bump. He spun in a circle, taking the new place in. "Seriously though, Derek, this is great."

 

Derek didn't smile, but the tense lines around his mouth loosened.

 

Erica broke the moment, shoving her phone in Stiles' face. "Isaac texted, they're on their way."

 

"Great," Stiles groaned. "Can't wait to sort all this out." Derek rolled his eyes but bumped his shoulder into Stiles' as he passed so Stiles figured it wouldn't be all that bad. He rolled his neck back, cracking it sharply. "Let's do this."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me tell you, it has been a month. Like crazier than the beginning of the summer. Two weeks ago, three people quit and two got fired at one of my jobs, at the other, someone got cheated on by their wife. Last week, they found out she might be pregnant, and three-four people are threatening to quit at that job. This week, there was an armed person on my campus where one of my jobs is, so I was in lockdown for 3.5 hours, no shots were fired but we have no idea where he went. Like he just disappeared, so now everyone is on high alert. 
> 
> I promise I'm working on this. I have the beginnings of each chapter sketched out and I'm writing them out slowly, but they're coming out. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads and kudos and comments. I love you all dearly.


	10. Beneath Street Lamp Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth and Stiles have a talk.

"So that's when I said-"

 

"I'll be right back." Annabeth said, interrupting Leo's story.

 

"Uh." Leo scrunched up his nose. "Okay? I mean -" He blushed. "The story waits for no one?"

 

She shrugged, scrambling up from the deck and ducking down a flight of stairs, ignoring the low murmurs of Percy apologizing for her rudeness. She took a left, swung through the kitchen, snagged an apple, and jogged up two flights of stairs, bringing herself firmly into the moonlight.

 

Annabeth paused for a moment, taking in the quiet and the stars that shone above her. Snagging her dagger from her belt, she sliced the apple neatly and quickly, ignoring the juice that ran down her wrist. She laid five of the apple slices out in the shape of a star, before taking a step back. 

 

"My lady Selene," Annabeth said, tilting her head back. "I need your moonlight to light the way to your blessed. Moonlight guides me though I walk in shadow." There was a moment of quiet before a figure slowly grew out of the apple slices. "Stiles?"  

 

The figure wavered for a second before cutting out completely. Annabeth cursed under her breath. She was still unsure as to why apple slices could sometimes produce a clear connection to Stiles and other times would do nothing for her. Stiles hadn't been very clear on that point either, muttering something about life and tether and the earth before changing the subject. She shook her head, gathering the slices off the ground and striding over to a bucket of water on the deck. Letting the apples float, she said the same prayer, this time crossing her fingers. 

 

Stiles rose from the water much quicker, his lanky body spilling out over the sky as Annabeth waited for the connection to secure itself.  

 

Stiles glanced up just as his form solidified. "Annabeth!" He grinned, pushing whatever he was working on out of his way and settling solidly on his desk. "Long time no see."  

 

She smiled at him. "Hey there."  

 

Stiles' smile faded and he blinked once, frowning, "What are you doing now?"  

 

Annabeth sighed. Sometimes she hated how perceptive Stiles could be. "I have a… quest." She paused. "A small one."  

 

Stiles tilted his head. "From Mother?"  

 

"What the fuck?" Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. "How the hell-" 

 

"I've gotten them too." Stiles interrupted. "I know what is happening."  

 

Annabeth sighed again. "I didn't want to keep it from you- I just- you've got a lot on your plate."  

 

Stiles frowned again, examining his hands. "Not too much on my plate for you."  

 

"I didn't-" Annabeth cut herself off. "It's too much for me." She held up her hand, stalling his attempts to speak. "I can't right now." Stiles nodded once, a sharp twitch of his head, still not looking at her. She tried to speak, tried to shape her thoughts into words so that he understood that it wasn't him, it was her and if she had to voice her worries out loud she would explode. Instead, she said nothing, watching him stare at his fingers.  

 

He cleared his throat, looking up. "How's the crew?"  

 

"They're good, I suppose," Annabeth said, pressing her lips together. "We aren't, it's not," she sighed. "Some days we fit, some days we don't. Percy and Jason occasionally get into it, and sometimes they have to be knocked out but that's not normal, per say."  

 

"He's a lot like his sister, isn't he?"  

 

"Yeah," Annabeth allowed, a smile playing around her lips. "As much as I wish Thalia was here, I know that she would be so over Percy." Stiles let out a small chuckle before quieting. Annabeth let the silence take hold, peering at Stiles in the encroaching gloom.  "Jackson's friends with you all now?"  

 

Stiles scowled, "Yeah, that fucking prick." Annabeth didn't mean to but she burst out laughing. The scowl left Stiles' face, replaced by a sheepish grin. "What? He is!" He said indignantly. "All he does is talk about how lame we all are!"  

 

"To be fair," Annabeth pointed out. "You are petty lame." Stiles rolled his eyes, the familiar sight causing an ache in Annabeth's sternum. "What are we going to do?" She whispered, slumping over her knees and raising her eyes to meet Stiles'. "Why does this keep happening to us?"  

 

Stiles hummed, taking a moment to breathe in the night air before responding. "We go on." He paused eyeing something over her shoulder before gazing back at her. "I have to go."  

 

"Go?" Percy's voice said from behind her. "But the fun just got here."  

 

Stiles laughed, quietly before rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah Jackson. Whatever." He sobered for a moment. "If you see Nico, tell him I need to talk to him."  

 

"See him?" Annabeth asked. "Why would we see him?"  

 

"He mentioned going overseas," Stiles said. "He was talking about visiting Italy again."  

 

"Oh wow," Percy said quietly, stepping forward and sliding his arm around Annabeth. "That's... heavy."  

 

"Yeah," Stiles said. "And he said he might not be able to talk for a while, but that was a week ago."  

 

Annabeth nodded. "You got it. We'll keep an eye out."  

 

"Alright." Stiles blinked once. "Love you Beth." He quirked a smile at Percy. "You too, Perce," before swiping a hand through the connection.  

 

Annabeth tensed and Percy frowned. "That wasn't normal, was it?"  

 

She shook her head. "He never calls me Beth unless something is going wrong."  

 

Percy kissed her on the top of her head, staring into the night sky. "He'll figure it out, he always does."  

 

*** 

 

In Beacon Hills, Stiles pushed away from the computer, turning to his bed. 

 

"So that was the famous sister." Peter drawled from where he was perched on the windowsill. Stiles hummed noncommittally. "You didn't tell her much."  

 

"Don't want her to worry," he said shortly. That was part of it, he admitted to himself, but he also didn't know what to explain, what to tell and what to leave out. Jackson was an obvious thing, because he was such a big issue that he had to tell her. But the Argent basement and the small fragments of the pack that were slowly coming together and the widening gap between him and Scott were all too much to put on her. He would handle it. He had to.  

 

*** 

 

Minerva paced in front of the fire, casting strange shadows around her. Hestia frowned from her spot on the floor, glancing up at the footsteps that came to a stop beside her.  

 

"No change?" Apollo said, as he crouched down to be level with Hestia.  

 

"No," she sighed. "She appears to have her moments, though they are quickly shattered by nonsense."  

 

"Ah," Apollo commented, grimacing, "Unfortunate."  

 

"Unfortunate," Hestia echoed, watching the shadows from beneath Minerva change as she shifted to Athena and then back. That was an understatement. With the way things were heading it'd be a miracle if any of the Gods survived. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It has been a while. 
> 
> I promise that I haven't forgotten about this and I still have a bunch of the other chapters mapped out. Life just kinda took me out for a while. My laptop started acting all wonky, it's my senior year of college, I started managing the entire store that I work at, friends and family had drama, a whole shebang of a semester. 
> 
> This is a super-super-super short chapter but I had to get something out and down before January and I'm going to try to update on some sort of a basis month to month but there are no guarantees. 
> 
> I love you all and I am so thankful that y'all are sticking with me, even if I don't deserve it. 
> 
> Happy New Year, here's to more regular uploads and better writing than ever before.


End file.
